Who am I?
by VincentValentine13
Summary: Eric Constantine is a young man on the road. Still, when the weather is bad, and you don't have any money, you'll take refuge anywhere,though that may not be wise if you're hiding out in the Shinra Mansion, espescially when you're watched by someone.
1. Sorry For The Intrusion

The rain poured down over the dark streets of Nibelheim. Between the flashes of lightning, a single figure stumbled through the streets. Its steps were shakey, and once or twice they slid on the wet stone streets. It clambered past the houses, glancing every so often into the warm windows, seeing the smiling faces of comfortable, content families. The figure let out a sad sigh before jumping at the sound of the rolling thunder. As lightning flashed again, the figure saw a santuary. There, half buried behind tall weeds and vines stood a mansion, its windows dark. As the figure drew closer, the house seemed to grow and become imposing, its windows like eyes that were looking down at the weary wanderer with disgust. Ignoring the glaring windows, the figure rushed up to the doors and pushed them open. They creaked open loudly and the figure fell onto the hard floor. Quickly rising and shutting the door behind him, it called out.

"Hello! Is anybody in here? Hello?"

No answer came but the echo of his voice as it bounced off the solid walls. The place looked abandoned, though everything seemed to be in order, with only a small amount of dust on the banisters of the stairways before him, revealed only by the lightning that shown through the windows. He shivered as he peered into the darkness, trying to see his way. Hand outstretched, he stumbled until he found the banister for the staircase and followed it up, hoping to find a place to rest, and perhaps make a fire. His hand brushed against the wall at th top of the stair, and he followed it until he reached a doorway. Another flash of lightning gave a brief glimpse at the contents of the room: two beds, a bookshelf, a desk and a small wood stove. Trembling from fear and cold, he felt his way over to the stove. Opening the hatch, he felt some old, half burned logs judging by the smell. Not thinking of how they got there, the figure spoke a command word, "Fire." Instantly, the logs started to burn, and they released a small bit of warmth into the lonely room.

Looking around, the traveler tumbled onto one of the beds, his body too exhausted to resist the call of sleep, despite the haunting felling that he was being watched.

Eric Constantine yawned as he sat up in bed. It had been a rough night, the storm making things difficult for him, but at least he was able to find shelter. His clothes were still damp, so he dug through his rucksack that had fallen on the floor for a change of clothes. Grabbing out a black t-shirt and black pants, he stepped over to a mirror that hung on the wall and looked at his reflection. It's not too bad, he thought to himself, though his long, brown hair had frizzed slightly, and his green eyes had small circles under them. Sleeping in a strange house was unnerving, though he woke up safe and sound, and it was slightly warmer then when he had fallen asleep last night.

A small flicker of movement in the mirror grabbed his attention, and he looked at the right edge of thhe glass to see a man staring back at him. Eric gasped and jerked around. How long has he been there? He thought to himself.

"Who are you?" Eric demanded, backing up against the vanity, so much so that he was almost sitting on it.

"I should ask you the same thing," the man asked. His deep, red eyes seemed to pierce Eric's, and it was all Eric could do to keep from looking away. "You are the stranger in this place, not I."

"I..I'm sorry," Eric apologized, "I needed a place to stay last night-"

"And wouldn't it have been better to just barge into the private home of another person?" the man interrupted.

"No, well, maybe," Eric stammered as the man's eyes narrowed slightly. The man stood at least a few inches taller then himself. Fine, raven black hair framed his pale face, and his mouth covered by the tall collar of his blood red cape, the ends of which were tattered and torn. On his left hand was a golden claw, whose wicked looking finger tips reflected the light of the sun. The sleeves of his black shirt went all the way to his hands, and on his right hand was a black glove. On his feet was a pair of metal shoes, who's color matched his claw. Belted on the right leg of his black pants, just above his knee, was a gun holster, partially hidden by his cape.

"Then maybe," the man said quietly, "You should leave."

"But, I don't have anywhere to go," Eric protested, "I'm alone in the world."

"That is not my problem," the man answered as he walked towards the door. His monotoned voice and empty face made it impossible for Eric to determine whether he was annoyed or not; still, he did not seem to enjoy having a guest.

"Could I at least get changed before you throw me out?"

"You may, but I want you to leave the moment you finish."

"Alright," Eric sighed, then watched as the man passed through the door and shut it behind him.

"Just who does he think he is?" Eric asked himself quietly as he changed, "I mean, does he think he's cool or something? Why, if he didn't have a gun I'd give him a good smack upside the head. You don't act so rudely to people in need."

Eric pulled on his shirt and shoes, then grabbed up his rucksack. As he opened the door and stepped into the now well-lit hallway, he glanced around for the stairway. Spotting it, he headed down the hallway, when a sudden voice made him jump.

"Before you judge me for being rude, perhaps you should look at your own manners."

Eric turned around, and there was the man, leaning easily against the wall of the hallway. "I'm sorry," Eric blushed as he realized the man had heard him.

"Try to not talk to yourself when others are around," the man said, pushing off the wall and walking towards his unexpected guest, "They may think you are strange."

"Look who's talking," Eric mumbled.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Nothing."

"Now that you're finished, I once again ask that you leave," the man reiterrated, still maintaining an unemotional tone.

"Aw, come on," Eric pleaded, "I have no where to go, and I like it here." Honestly, he didn't really like it here, because he found it rather creepy. But it was a warm place, and besides its quiet inhabitant, there didn't seem to be anyone else around.

"I repeat, that's not my problem," the man replied.

"Please," Eric asked, giving his most pathetic face and most pleading voice, "I'll do anything. I clean and cook, or not even leave my room. Please let me stay."

"First, I must say that I find it amazing that you have claimed a room in my home as your own. Second, I do not require a housekeeper, and finally, I do not have the time nor the inclination to keep an eye on you."

"You don't have to babysit me," Eric replied, sounding injured, "I am sixteen years old."

The man didn't say anything for a moment, and Eric smiled slightly, knowing his triumphant claiming of a room in the house was near.

"Very well," the man nodded, "But, if you are going to stay here, there is something that you need to see; hopefully, it will change your mind and help remove you from this house."

"Go ahead," Eric answered, "'Cause I'm not leaving, no matter what you show me."

"Very well," the man said, and started down the stairs to the front room. He turned to Eric with his plain face and looked at him. "I would ask now that you close your eyes." Eric looked strangely at the man, but he seemed adamant, so Eric slowly closed his eyes. "I only ask this because I don't want you to know where what I am going to show you is." Eric felt the man rest his hand on his shoulder, and lead him forward, then to the left, then right, then turned around, then forward. He heard a door click open, then felt himself being pushed forward through the door. Beyond the door, the air became less stuffy then the rest of the house, and it felt warmer. It also seemed to grow brighter, and his eyes flew open when he felt the man's hand let go, and heard the door close behind him.

He was standing outside of the mansion on the front step. The sound of a lock clicking on the door behind him made himi jerk around.

"You creep!" Eric shouted as he pounded on the door, "What kinda dirty trick was that!"

"The kind that gets rid of unwanted intruders," he heard from the otherside of the door. Eric slammed his fist against the door once more for good measure, then sat down on the stair in a huff. "What a jerk," he mumbled. He adjusted his pack, then started towards the crooked gates of the mansion.

A noise over to the left caught his attention. Looking over his shoulder he saw nothing, but heard the sound again; a sort of raucus laughter. The sound didn't sound like something the man would make, so Eric followed the noise. It came from a window on the side of the manor that led into the basement, and when Eric peeked in the clouded glass, he saw a whisp of something sweep past the window. The laughter came again, and Eric couldn't let this pass. Someone else was in the house, one that didn't sound like it belonged. Eric had stop him; though the true reason for the action was that he was searching for a way into the house again.

As he slipped in through the window, he dropped into a large room, with books on the shelves all around. The corners of the room were empty, looking like something had been there, with circles of dust on the wooden boards.

The laughter came again, this time in the hall, and Eric ducked behind the doorway. Ahead of him was a long hall with a spiral stair at the end. A door was in the middle of the wall off to the left, but it was closed. Again, the sounder of laughter came from the hall, and Eric walked slowly towards the stairs. The materia that were on his belt, the materia he had carried with him through all of his trveling, glowed brightly in preparation, as if it knew that a fight was coming. Eric stepped closer to the stairs, but was unaware of the shadow that had dropped down from the ceiling behind him.

A swish behind him was his only warning, and he turned around to see the end of a large pendulum about to impale him. He dove against the rock wall, the blade missing him by mere inches. As the pendulum swung back, Eric saw that sitting on top of it was a man, or what appeared to be a man. It had dark skin and blonde hair. It wore no shirt, and a pair of tight, blue pants. On its deformed, ghostly face was a look of both disappointment and glee. It smiled wickedly as it swung the huge blade around towards Eric again, this time slicing his leg slightly.

Eric looked up and saw that the chain was not that long, and that thihs would be an easy victory as long as he cast magic from a safe distance.

Feeling the rushing energy of the materia, Eric spoke the words for the spell, then released it all with the command, "Thunder!"

A current of electricity shot from his extended hand towards the spirit, striking it solidly. The ghostly form seemed stunned for a moment, then slid off the pendulum and onto the ground.

Now's my chance, Eric grinned to himself, and ran forward, preparing to cast at close range. When he was but a foot away, the spirit jumped back onto the pendulum and swung forward, taking Eric completely by surprise. Without time to react, there was no chance of dodging it, and he watched in horror as the blade descended. It swept down, but before it reached him, a gunshot rang out. The chain holding the pendulum to the ceiling snapped apart cleanly, and the whole thing flew forward, still on a one-way course with the terrified Eric. Suddenly, a hand pushed the young man on his back just as the metal blade spun over his head. It swirled towards the stairs, but was stopped by the narrow threshold of the doorway infront of the staircase, and it stuck in the wall, firmly inbedded by the force of it's trip.

The ghostly man had once again fallen off the blade, and this time laid helplessly on the floor. Eric, without giving a second thought, cast another spell.

"Fire!" The flames exploded underneath the spirit, and when they dissapated, the spirit had vanished, leaving only a small whisp of smoke where it had been lying.

Eric was breathing heavily as he turned around to see his rescuer standing behind him, although he wasn't too sure if he would have rather faced the pedulum again. Standing before him was the man from earlier, and he did not look pleased.

"I thought I had told you to leave," the man said, a small touch of annoyance in his voice.

"I thought you were in trouble," Eric lied, "I thought that ghost was going to kill you."

"I have lived in this mansion for many years, young man, and have faced its many perils time and again. Do you believe that I would have sucumbbed so easily to such a simple spirit?"

"Well if you had let me stay, I could have found out more about you, and I wouldn't have made that assumption," Eric replied, becoming just as annoyed.

The man didn't answer, but stood there, silently regarding Eric. "What is your name?" he asked quietly, his voice returning to the point of absolute monotone.

"Eric Constantine," Eric replied slowly.

"Very well then, Mr. Constantine," the man said, "If you wish to remain in this house, you are to never come down here again, understand?"

Eric smiled widely as he pieced together what the man had said. "Thank you so much," Eric said gratefully, "I promise, I won't be any trouble."

"Don't thank me too quickly," the man said, lifting his right hand, "This is only for tonight, and I expect you to begon by tomorrow morning." With that, the man turned on his heel, his cape swirling dramatically, and walked towards the stairs. Eric followed closely behind, a huge grin on his face.

"So, what's your name?" Eric asked quietly, still smiling widely.

"Vincent," the man said over his shoulder.

"What? No last name?"

The man stopped at the bottom of the stairs, but did not turn around. "It would be in your best interest, Mr. Constantine, to not expect answer for every question. I would also remind you that some questions are better left unasked, especially from one who is in such a precarious place as to lose your room for the night." Without another word, Vincent started up the stairs, with Eric once again trailing quietly. As the two climbed upward in silence, Eric became aware that he couldn't hear Vincent's footsteps, despite the metal boots he was wearing. He, however, heard every step of his own shoes echoing all the way up the brick cylinder that encased the stairway. He winced slightly with every step, and imagined that Vincent was probably thinking how ridiculous he was. Brushing away that thought, he decided to try to start a conversation.

"So, you're a pretty good shot with a gun," he commented quietly. Vincent didn't turn around or respond, so he pushed a little further. "I mean, to be able to shoot a chain while its swinging like that is really good. I know how to pull a trigger and all that jazz, but I could never aim like that."

"Years of practice have allowed for such aim," Vincent answered, stopping once again, "Now, I will leave you to your own devices. All I ask is that you do not wander around the manor. Try to remain in the rooms. The hallways belong to the other denizens of this manor, as you have become acquianted with, and they do not like the living wandering within their domain."

"So, what do you recommend?" Eric asked, looking around the room the had come into, expecting another spirit to appear out of thin air.

"There is a small conservatory and library next to the room you claimed last night," Vincent replied, starting for the door. "You may remain in there, but I warn you again, do not leave that room, regardless of what you hear. I will fetch you when the time is right." He stepped through the door, and Eric watched him disappear into the dark shadows of the manor's corridors. Eric tiptoed down the hall, towards his room, trying to mimic Vincent's steps and move as silent as he did. After several seconds and several sore toes, he gave up on the notion and rushed down to the conservatory, shutting the door behind him.

Looking around at the room, the first thing he noticed was the large window over-looking a dead patch of plants at the back of the mansion.

"Must have been a garden," he said to himself as he looked at the dead patch of plants, "What a shame. Guess Vincent's not much of a gardener." He sighed as he turned his attention to a small bookshelf standing in the corner. If there was one thing Eric loved, it was reading. He had spent a lot of time in books, usually fantasy novels simply because he found nothing interesting in factual books.

Settling down in front of the shelf, he scanned the bindings, picking out interesting sounding books. A stack sitting firmly beside him, Eric plopped down on a dusty arm chair and read through them. They weren't too terribly long, so he found it easy to read through them. As it grew later in the day, Eric became aware of a sound eminating from just outside the door. He rose to his feet slowly, picking up a heavy dictionary as a weapon. He stepped slowly up to the door, and leaned his head against it, pressing his ear against the old wood. The noise came closer, a clanking sound, like a piece of heavy metal being dropped sharply on the floor with a 'clunk'. A dragging sound followed, and then another clunk, growing ever closer to the door. Eric tensed, holding the dictionary tightly in his left hand, reching slowly down towards the handle. Placing his hand on the handle, he began to turn it.

Suddenly, a gunshot erupted from behind the door, and Eric fell backwards in surprise. Three shots were fired, each one sounding like it was hitting a steel wall. After the echo of the bullets had quieted, the clunking didn't come again. Eric rose to his feet, trembling as the door nob turned. He scooped up the dictionary and dove at the door, the heavy book raised for a downward swing. The door opened quickly, Eric closed his eyes and brought the dictionary down hard. It thudded against something, but Eric couldn't tell through his eyelids. A grunt followed the thud, and Eric brought the book around for another swing. Something stopped the strike, however, and Eric tried to jerk it free, opening his eyes in frustration.

When he saw Vincent glaring at him, a red mark on the side of his normally pale face. His red eyes were staring at Eric's, annoyance and irritation pracically shooting from then like sparks, and Eric looked at the floor as he blushed.

"Hehe," he chuckled, completely embarassed, "Sorry about that."

Vincent didn't respond, but firmly removed the dictionary from Eric's hand.

"In the future, Mr. Constantine," Vincent said, his voice trembling slightly. Eric could tell, he was doing his best to maintain his quiet, unemotional tone despite his annoyance, "I would suggest that your weapon of choice would do more damage to your opponent then irritation. Otherwise, you will find yourself in a very difficult situation, such as you are now."

"That bad, huh?" Eric asked sheepishly. "Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hit you with a dictionary. Still, you gotta admit that it was rather funny having the book thrown at you," Eric commented, trying to make the best out of the obviously bad situation. Vincent wasn't laughing.

"I also suggest that you do not try to cover your mistakes with comic relief. It usually causes nothing more then trouble for you. I knew of a person who made it a habit to do such a thing, and she constantly found herself in danger of being injured by her own friends for it. Therefore, I ask that you please avoid her fate and not try to be funny around me."

Vincent's eyes returned to their normal state, completely unemotional, completely unreadable. Eric sighed, relieved that Vincent hadn't thrown him out for the incident.

"At least I didn't leave the room," Eric offerred.

"Perhaps you are capable of listening," Vincent said to himself, "Your second entrance into this place had given me little hope for such a thing."

"I listen very well," Eric defended, "At least when I willing to."

"A seemingly rampant sympton for those your age," Vincent commented quietly. "If you choose to, the kitchen is located below here. I have prepared a meal for you. You may take it back to your room if you wish."

"Well, can't I eat with you?"

"I have already eaten," Vincent answered, turning back to the hall.

"Aw, come on," Eric pleaded, "I have to eat by myself a lot. Can't I enjoy company just this once? I promise to not hit you with anything."

Vincent said nothing, but just looked at his uninvited guest. Eric placed his hand behind his back and tightened his hands into fists, bracing himself for the answer. Instead, Vincent answered simply, "Your meal is downstairs. I suggest you hurry down and eat before it grows cold." Eric sighed heavily, dropping his head low and walking slowly out the door, hoping that the sad performance may have an effect on the man. But Vincent didn't react, and didn't follow, so Eric piicked up the pace and walked down the stairs. Glancingg around the darkening foyer, he saw a light on behind a closed door to his left. Walking quickly over to it, he peeked inside.

Within was a simple kitchen, large but plain, with what seemed to be only the bare necessities for making food. Eric stepped inside and saw sitting on one of the counters a bowl with steam rising from it. A slice of white bread lay beside it, and upon further examination of the bowl, Eric found that it was a stew. A few chunks of meat, some carrots and a potatoe floated around in a brown broth, with a strong smell radiating from it. Grabbing up the spoon in the bowl, Eric tasted it. It was slightly bitter, probably from the large amount of different spices he smelled, but it was better then his own cooking, so he didn't really mind. Grabbing up the piece of bread and sitting at an island counter on the otherside of the kitchen, he dabbed the bread in the broth and ate his dinner glumly. The entire situation seemed depressing all of sudden. Perhaps it was Vincent's attitude, or the house or both, but for some reason, Eric felt oppressed at the moment.

"How does it taste?" Vincent asked from the doorway. Eric jumped, almost spilling the hot meal on his lap.

"Don't do that!" Eric replied, trying to catch his breath, "What are you tryin' to do? Kill me?"

"If it get's you out of here any faster…" Vincent answered. Eric looked at him horrified.

"Please tell me that was a joke."

"If you wish for it to be," was the answer, as the man came and leaned on the edge of the counter.

"You should stop speaking so cryptically," Eric added, taking a bite of bread, "It's rude."

"So is talking while eating," Vincent answered.

Eric swallowed. "Sorry."

"Before making statements about my behavior, try to make sure you are not partaking in rude behavior yourself. One might question your upbringing for doing such a thing."

"Yeah, I guess your right," Eric replied. At least he's down here, Eric thought to himself, even if he is insulting me. "Thanks for thhe stew by the way," he added, "But you may want to avoid using a lot of spices next time."

"Pardon my inexpirience," Vincent replied, "But then, I suppose you would wish for me to dine upon what you make and then point out your culinary mistakes?"

Eric smiled slightly, once again embarrassed, "No, I guess not. I mean, there would be a ton of things you could point out about my cooking."

"I can imagine," Vincent nodded.

Eric opened his mouth to respond, but decided that it would be best to not say anything, at the risk of being subtly insulted again.

"So, if I may ask," Eric asked after swallowing some stew, "Why do you live here all by yourself?"

"You may not ask," Vincent said quickly, but then stopped and added quietly, "I see no reason to not live alone."

"Well, it may help your temprament. I mean, if I lived in this creepy place all by myself, I know I'd end up gettting depressed."

Vincent sighed, closing his eyes in annoyance. "You know that old saying, 'home is where the heart is'?" Eric nodded.

"That is not necessarily true. In fact, it is very wrong. The place where one has a home, be it a dark manor or a cave, is not what determines an attitude; those that believe such a thing are sorely mistaken. Life is what makes a heart, what gives and determines one's outlook and attitude. My life has made me the way I am, not this house. If the 'home' has any effect on those within it, it magnifies the actions and events of those who inhabit it."

"I never thought of it like that," Eric said, wiping a bit of broth off the corner of his mouth.

"Very few do," Vincent answered.

Eric looked down at the empty bowl in front of him. If what Vincent said was true, what did that mean for him?

"Well, what about me?" Eric asked, looking up again, "I don't have a home. I just kinda drift."

"Perhaps your home is the road then, a symbol of what has occurred in your life to bring you to this point."

"I guess that's true," Eric said, leaning his head on his hands. Without thinking about it, he started to chew on his nails. It was something he had done since he was little, and it had become a habit for whenever he was thinking hard.

"I couldn't help but notice," Vincent commented, breaking the silence, "That you carried yourself with expirience in battle."

"Did you just compliment me?" Eric asked, his voice carrying a sarcasticly amazed tone.

"No," Vincent replied simply. Eric decided to ignore that.

"Well, yeah, I mean, you can't travel as much as I do without fighting a couple times."

"Really?" Vincent asked, his voice sounding unconvinced.

"Yep," Eric answered confidently, "In fact, I'm a pretty good fighter, and an even better spellcaster. You should see me fight when it's not all cramped. I'm untouchable!"

Vincent snickered, though it carried no cheer. "How much would you wager on that claim?"

"I'd stake my whole collection of materia," Eric answered with a huge grin.

"Should you be so willing to lose something so precious?" Vincent asked, his eyebrows rising slightly.

"Why, I wouldn't lose, so it's not a problem."

"Very well then," Vincent nodded, "I shall take you up on that offer."

"What?" Eric asked, his confidence suddenly deflating.

"I do not usually repeat myself," Vincent answered, "But I shall in this case. I would like to take you up on that wager."

"You can't be serious?"

"I am," Vincent answered, still maintaining an unattached voice, "If I win, you will hand over all of your materia."

"What if I win?" Eric asked, suddenly caught in the moment, feeling the excitement of laying things on the line.

"I shall permit you to remain within this house as long as you wish."

"Your on then!" Eric cheered, "But don't mope when you lose!"

"Do not worry," Vincent said, "In fact, I shall be celebrating your immediate removal from this house. Now, I suggest that you get some rest. I would hate for the contest to be unfair because you did not find enough sleep."

"But it's only five," Eric answered, looking a small clock on the wall.

"That clock has stopped," Vincent answered, "And if you wish to avoid a forceable removal from this house, I suggest you find your way into your room immediately."

Eric understood the threat, so he quickly rose, rinsed out the bowl he had eaten from and rushed up the stairs. As he closed his door behind him, and was certain Vincent wasn't listening, he fell face forward on the bed.

"What have I just gotten myself into?" he grumbled into the pillow.


	2. A Past Revealed, Wounds Reopened

Vincent walked quickly through the narrow mountain paths, with Eric trailing behind. Vincent was leading Eric to a wide area, hidden deep in the mountains, so that he could see just what Eric was capable of in battle. The large collection of material suggested that he was strong in magic, but Vincent wanted to see it for himself.

The two of them had entered the mountain region behind Nibelheim early this morning, and had only stopped for a brief breakfast. The terrain had required a bit of climbing and jumping, and by the time they were three- quarters of the way there, Eric was beginning to noticeably slow down. He didn't complain at all though, and managed to match Vincent's brisk walking pace, even if he was a foot or two behind. At least he's persistent, Vincent thought. Eric broke the silence, which had been hanging over the two of them since they had left the mansion that morning. "Vincent, do you….do you have any family?"

"No," Vincent answered abruptly, not even turning around or slowing, "why?"

"Well, I know it's not really any of my business, but…it's just…well, you live in that mansion all by yourself, surely you must get lonely?"

"No," Vincent lied. He did get lonely, but not often enough to make it a problem.

Eric remained silent for a few more minutes, and then asked hesitantly, "Do you have any friends?"

"Yes, I have several," Vincent answered.

"Where are they?"

"Three of them live in Midgar, one in Cosmo Canyon, two that travel around the world together, and then one who works and lives in Gold Saucer."

"You know someone who lives in Gold Saucer!" Eric asked excitedly. His excited tone surprised Vincent so much that he stopped and turned around.

"Yes, why?" Vincent asked, still a bit shocked at Eric's reaction.

"I've always wanted to go to Gold Saucer! Have you actually been there before? What does your friend do there? What's it like?" Eric continued on, his eyes growing wide with excitement. Vincent just stood there, looking at him silently. Something about this kid reminded Vincent of himself, back before the Turks, back before- No! Vincent didn't even like to think about it. He couldn't hide from it, but at least he could put it out of his mind. Right now, he had more important things at hand; the most important being the reason they were in these mountains in the first place. Vincent wanted to test Eric. The kid had lots of material, a lot of which was mastered, meaning that it was at the peak of its power. Vincent wanted to see why this kid's material was so strong. Only big time fighters could have material that strong.

"We need to move on," was all that Vincent said in response, and then continued on. Eric followed, and didn't say another word.

The sun was reaching the middle of the sky by the time they reached the cave Vincent was looking for.

"We'll head into this cave a little, then have lunch," Vincent explained. He had already told Eric what they would be doing; he just hadn't said where they would be going for the test. Before they had gone to bed last night, Vincent asked Eric if he knew how to fight. Eric said only a little bit, that he mostly relied on magic. So Vincent told him that he would teach him how to fight. Granted, Vincent didn't usually use hand-to-hand combat, but he saw this as an opportunity to test, not train. They entered the cave, and walked down the tunnel, deep into the mountain, their footsteps echoing off the walls. The tunnel wasn't dark, the light from the outside still shown into the cave, and ahead of them, they saw sunlight. When they were about halfway through, Vincent motioned for them to stop. They sat, and Eric took out two sandwiches. They ate quietly, when Eric noticed something he hadn't before. Vincent only ate with his right hand. Come to think of it, Eric had never seen Vincent's left hand. Last night, Eric hadn't thought about it, but now he saw that Vincent's entire left arm was covered by his cape. Just when Eric started looking for some part of the hand that wasn't covered, he was surprised by something, Vincent initiated a conversation!

"So what are you doing out in the world at your age?" Vincent asked quietly.

"Well, I am sixteen. People from Wutai send their kids out at that age."

"But are you from Wutai?"

"No, but I've been on my own for a while. My parents died when I was young, about seven. So, I've been on my own ever since."

"How have you survived for so long," Vincent asked, not sure if he was telling the truth. He sounded sincere, but then he could just be a good actor.

"Well, I scrounged for a couple months. I used to live out near the Chocobo ranch. It was the only other place I looked forward to visiting, next to Gold Saucer that is. So, while living out there, I was suddenly taken to live in the Shinra building by a group called the Turks."

"The…Turks?" Vincent asked slowly. Yet again, Eric had surprised him.

"Yeah, do you know them?" Eric asked, curiously.

"I've heard of them," Vincent replied casually.

"Well, they came and got me. They said that I was part of a new program for children who's parents had died while working for Shinra. They said that I showed a large amount of potential, and that Shinra could help make my dreams come true. Not like I really had a choice in the matter. So, I went and was raised in the Turk program, as well as receiving the "best" education Shinra could buy. I should have seen that being in the lap of luxury would cost me, but it was just too nice, and I was young. On my fourteenth birthday, I was approached by a man named Hojo."

Hojo. Just the name made Vincent's skin crawl. He was the man responsible for so much pain in the world. He was also responsible for what Vincent had become. Vincent had promised revenge on Hojo, and was able to fulfill his vow, killing the wretched man himself. But that didn't make the things that Hojo had caused go away. It didn't relieve Vincent of his curse.

"Hojo asked me if I would allow some tests run on me," Eric continued, not realizing the inner turmoil within his listener, "I asked what for. He explained that he believed I was of a special blood. Now I had heard of the Cetra, but I didn't think that I was one of them. Hojo said that I wasn't a Cetra, that I was part of an old race of material-bound people, capable of bringing out the maximum power of a material, without any real work. I didn't believe him. All material I had was mastered through my own hard work, and had actually taken longer then some of the others that were working in the SOLDIER program. Hojo said that he would have to draw out my abilities, and thus the tests. If he could figure out how to draw out that ability, then he could maybe make an artificial version of it, so that Mako energy would last longer. I refused, not liking the idea of being probed and examined like a dissected frog. Hojo said that I would not be harmed, that I would be asleep for the whole thing. I still refused. Later that night, there was a knock on my door. There stood Hojo, with two SOLDIERs. He demanded that I come with him peacefully, or he would force me to. I went with him quietly, and then took the first chance I could to run. I had this belt with escape, and me, cause I never take it off, so I was able to fend off the Shinra guards as best I could. I've been on the run ever since."

As Eric finished his story, Vincent stared at the young man. The story was strange, but not entirely unbelievable. The mere fact that Eric had mentioned Hojo made him seem honest, since only the higher ups in Shinra really knew him. Perhaps there was more to this kid then met the eye.

"So, why are you telling me all this," Vincent asked, a thought suddenly coming to mind.

"What do you mean," Eric asked, sounding a little hurt. "You asked me to tell you why I was on my own."

"I meant no offense," Vincent replied calmly, realizing that he had made it seem that he didn't care. He did, especially where Hojo was involved, but there was one thing that he felt he should point out.

"I simply wanted to point out that you just told me you are wanted by Shinra."

"Yeah, I guess so," Eric said, not quite understanding.

"Well, do you think it wise to tell this to one who lives in the Shinra mansion?"

Eric suddenly saw his mistake. Vincent was right, and if Vincent worked for Shinra, he had just guaranteed himself a one-way ticket back to Hojo.

"Don't worry," Vincent said, trying to calm his young companion, "the Shinra are probably too busy with their current problems to go after you. Besides, Hojo died."

Eric's face became very calm, his eyes brightened, and it seemed to Vincent that an invisible load had been lifted off the young man's shoulders.

"That's so sad," he said anyway, trying to hide his dislike for the disgusting man, "I heard he had a wife and child."

Once again, Eric had unknowingly opened another wound in Vincent's heart. The only women to ever steal his heart, was the wife of Hojo. And now, she was dead, lost to him forever. And his son, the one being who's value of life matched Hojo's, Sephiroth himself, was long gone, never to darken the world again with his presence. Suddenly, Vincent realized that the day was waning on, and that they needed to get moving. Otherwise, they would end up having spend the night in the mountains, which really wasn't the wisest thing.

"Come on," Vincent said, standing up. Eric followed suite, and as they started down the tunnel once again, Vincent wondered about the young man. He had lasted so long, hiding from Shinra's arm for two years. Now that the looming shadow of Hojo was gone, would he settle down somewhere? Vincent felt a twinge of pain for the kid. No family, no friends. Once again, Vincent saw himself in Eric, his innocence, and his blind trust. But unlike Eric, Vincent had been unable to avoid the Turks influence, and unlike Eric, Vincent had been unable to avoid Hojo's grasp. Regret filled his heart, but, like whenever he felt this regret, he pushed it aside. He would be a slave to regret no more.


	3. Vincent vs Eric

As always, I don't anything in this story except Eric

The tunnel opened up into a huge cavern, with smooth walls and a high, domed ceiling. In the center of the ceiling was a wide circle, cut out, which allowed the sunlight to stream in. This was the sunlight that they had seen from the other end of the tunnel. In the center of the floor was another hole, positioned directly beneath the one in the ceiling. This one had a barred grating on it, and even with the sunlight shining in on it, the bottom could not be seen. Eric peered into the hole, trying to see in as best he could, without having his feet anywhere near the grate. Vincent startled him, his voice echoing off the smooth walls of the cave.

"This place used to be a Mako reactor," Vincent explained, "but due to constant problems, they had to move the reactor to another area in these mountains. So this cave is empty now, with only these two holes as a hint to what used to stand here."

"What kind of problems," Eric asked turning away from the hole, "They had to be pretty rough if Shinra shut down one of their precious Mako reactors."

"Are you ready to start," Vincent asked, still concerned about time. He could tell by the whole in the ceiling that sun was beyond high noon, "If we don't hurry, the sun will go down before we get out of the mountains. If it's dark, the mountain trails are extremely treacherous."

"Alright, but…how do we start? I mean, I've done training for practice before, but never just because."

"Well," Vincent said, "You just begin, with one of us making the first strike. And remember, don't hold back."

Eric and Vincent went to opposite sides of the cavern. Vincent knew that he would be at a disadvantage initially; since Eric had a large repertoire of magic, but knew that if he could get close enough, he would be able throw Eric off his guard. He didn't know the fighting styles Eric knew, but he guessed that the Turks had probably trained him, the same way they had trained him. Vincent wasn't a particular fan of hand-to-hand combat, but he wasn't about to use his gun, Death Sentence, and he wasn't trained in using any other weapon, so hand-to-hand was the next best thing.

As the two of them stood there, Vincent saw Eric raise his hands, and cross them over his chest. His hair was flowing around his shoulders, as if he was underwater, and Vincent felt a tingling in his own body. This could only mean one thing. As quickly as he could, Vincent ran to the left, just as Eric brought both his hands forward. An explosion of fire erupted right where Vincent had been standing, and even though Vincent had just escaped the radius of the flame, the heat still radiated out, catching Vincent in its overwhelming grasp. The air was sucked from his lungs, and the heat caused sweat to break out on his forehead almost immediately. He couldn't believe that the kid could unleash a level three Fire, but now Vincent knew he was dealing with a powerful mage. He had to close the gap between him and Eric, and quickly.

Eric loved the feeling of spell casting. The energy building up from the material, then feeling the magic flow through his veins was like nothing in the world. Unfortunately, Eric usually only cast magic in battle, so he never got to enjoy it long. After the initial cast of fire, Eric saw that Vincent was able to move quickly, and even worse, he was able to sense when he was a target for magic. Eric knew he would have to pick up the pace. He charged for the next spell, this one targeted at him. The familiar energy flowed once again, and he moved his hands in the same way he always did when he cast. This time though, instead of the energy rush stopping when he finished casting, it continued. This was one of his favorite spells, Haste. Everything sped up. His mind could focus more on the spells, allowing him to cast faster, and he could hit his targets easier. He charged again, this time with a blizzard spell in mind. A cool feeling flowed through his veins, and he saw his target, Vincent, coming straight for him. Instead of targeting Vincent, he targeted instead the floor in front of Vincent. He waved his hands, and a spire of pure Ice jumped up from the ground just as Vincent stepped over it. Vincent was caught in its icy grip for a moment, before it shattered, releasing him. Vincent dropped to his knees, then stood up, slightly shivering from the frosty bite. Fortunately, magic never left any cuts, bruises or burns. Not to say that it didn't hurt, it just never left any visible marks. Eric remembered what Vincent said, to not hold back. Eric was sure Vincent could handle himself, but he still wasn't too sure if it was safe to such powerful spells for only practice. Still, Vincent said not to hold back, and Eric had healing spells if the need arose, so he wasn't going to worry. He started to charge for another spell.

Vincent shook off the chill that still ran through his body after that Blizzard spell. Evidently, Eric was a bit more cunning then he had expected as well. Vincent had also noticed that he had cast a spell on himself, which meant that Vincent would have to do a little magic soon, to either balance his with Eric's or break whatever magic Eric had placed on himself. He saw how all of Eric's movements were quicker, and knew that Haste was in place. Unless Vincent did something soon, he would be crushed. Eric started to charge again, this time with Vincent as the target. He saw Eric's hair flow, and felt the warning tingle. Now would be his chance, he just had to hope that whatever spell Eric was casting now wouldn't cause any damage. He threw back his cloak to reveal his own set of material, located on a bracer on his left arm. It was smaller then Eric's collection, but still carried the essentials. Simply put, Eric wasn't the only one who could cast Haste! Vincent began casting his spell, just as Eric completed his own. Vincent felt a wave of energy course through his body, but not the usual kind associated with spells, but another kind. Vincent suddenly felt is heart slowing, his lungs taking in air at a much slower rate. He was under the influence of Slow, and it was fortunate that he was casting Haste, otherwise, the battle would have been lost. He brought his own arms down, though he felt as if he was pulling a load with his arms. As the spell completed, he felt everything grow faster, matching Eric's pace. Eric must have seen the change, because he smiled at Vincent and said quietly, "Looks like we'll be spending the night in these mountains."

Below, unbeknownst to them, an old tunnel that connected to the Mako hole was carrying the vibrations of their movement and energy. The vibrations traveled to the end of the relatively short tunnel. But the walls weren't the only things feeling the vibrations of the ensuing fight. The old beast opened its eyes slowly, not waking from its sleep for quit some time. Not since the noisy men from above started moving into his cave had he awakened. Now, he felt the familiar footfalls of humans once again. Had these humans forgotten him so quickly? Well, he would remind them. The great beast spread its wings, stretching, and preparing for its task. The dragon had found a meal.

Vincent had closed the gap, using Eric's moments of spell casting as time for him to get closer. Vincent brought his fist up in an uppercut, but it only glanced off Eric's chin as he dodged it. Then Eric sent out a sidekick to Vincent's stomach, but Vincent dodged by rolling to the side, then followed by countering with a sweeping kick that knocked Eric off his feet. Eric fell to the ground, and rolled over to avoid a punch to the chest. He stood up quickly, and saw Vincent coming in for another uppercut. Eric had never really been forced to fight hand-to-hand, so this was all new to him. He desperately needed to get some distance, because being this close didn't allow for any spell casting at all. But with Vincent able to move as quickly as he could, maybe even faster, Eric just couldn't see a way out. Vincent continued to press him with punches and kicks, and it was all Eric could do to stay out of their way, let alone run away. Then Eric saw his means of salvation. Vincent swung a haymaker, and Eric ducked then plowed right into Vincent's chest, barreling right over him, and far enough away to pull a trump card from his sleeve, or more precisely, his belt. Eric began casting another spell, one that would require a lot more concentration, a summon. He would use his very first summon ever, and because it was his first, it was mastered. As the spell completed, Eric's material form disappeared, allowing for the material form of Chocobo/Mog to appear. The little mog nodded to Eric as the two switched positions for physical and astral bodies. Eric loved this part of magic too.

Vincent watched as Eric vanished before his eyes, and knew what was coming next. He had seen and been a part of enough summons to know what had happened. The only question now was, what did Eric summon. As the summon began to take form, Vincent released a slight sigh of relief. It was Chocobo/Mog, one of the weakest summons out there. However, Vincent had never faced a mastered Chocobo/Mog before.

The little mog sitting upon its chocobo took one look at Vincent before bringing its tiny heels against the chocbo's sides. The chocobo started off, running faster than Vincent had counted on, and nearly trampled him. He tumbled to ground, narrowly missing the pounding feet and sharp talons of the speedy bird. At least it only makes one pass, Vincent thought as he stood up. He failed to see the chocobo coming back behind him for another run. He turned around just in time to get caught in an explosion of feathers, fur, and claws. He flew backwards, slammed into the cave's smooth wall, and lay there for a moment trying to reorient himself. As his vision became less blurry, he saw the mog and chocobo fade from sight, replaced by Eric, who was trying his best to smother his laughter. With tears in his eyes from his glee, he said, still trying to subdue his giggles, "You said don't hold back."

"True," Vincent replied, standing up, "so now I won't hold back either."

"What! You mean you were holding back?" Eric asked, his face forming a slight pout. He thought he had matched Vincent, maybe was even better than him.

"Well, we'll call it a day," Vincent said suddenly, walking over towards an wide-eyed Eric, "what did you learn from this fight?"

"You mean I had to learn something?" Eric asked, still shocked that Vincent had suddenly stopped a fight that he was actually enjoying, "I thought you were testing me?"

"I was, and still am," Vincent explained, "Now, I'm testing to see if you are capable of learning from a fight, especially a difficult one."

"Well," Eric began, thinking it over, "I learned that…um…well, I need to find a way to keep my distance at all times, because I can't fight worth beans."

"Right, but perhaps you need to learn some fighting skills, in case you can't keep your distance."

Eric's green eyes brightened, "Will you teach me? You seem really good."

"You weren't doing too bad," Vincent said, "You blocked a good portion of what I threw, and you managed to get some hits in," Vincent mentioned, ignoring Eric's question.

"But will you train me?" Eric asked again, pretending to not have noticed that Vincent had ignored him.

"We'll see," he answered quietly, then proceeded to cast a Cure spell on them both. As they walked back towards the entrance of the cavern, Eric walking in front of Vincent this time, Vincent regarded the young man once again. Why did he feel the need to see Eric in battle? What was it about this kid, whom Vincent had never known until yesterday, which intrigued him so? Vincent just couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe he felt pity for him, a kid who had been forced to grow up too quickly by Shinra, just as he had. Whatever the reason, Vincent felt a want to help this kid, this naïve boy, who had suddenly appeared. And if that included teaching him how to fight, then Vincent was more than willing. I wonder if this is how a father feels, Vincent thought. I'll protect him, and if Shinra wants him, then they'll have to deal with me. Vincent suddenly stopped, realizing what he had just said. He never thought he would say something like that, but he had developed a liking for Eric, even if they had only been together for a short time, and he wasn't about to let another person he liked slip away from him. Another person who saw through his cold attitude, and dark appearance. He wouldn't lose another friend. There wouldn't be another Lucrecia.

"Hey, Vincent! Hurry up! The sun's going down," Eric called back to him. Without realizing it, Vincent had stopped walking during his contemplations. He looked up to his young ward, then smiled slightly, and walked quickly to his side. Then the two of them walked out of the cave, and into the light of the near-setting sun. Unknown to them, a visitor was coming right behind them. A visitor that was hungry.

Vincent suddenly stopped, and motioned for Eric to do the same. They both stood silently, hearing and seeing nothing.

"What is it," Eric asked after a few moments, still straining his ears to hear something.

"Nothing," Vincent replied, starting to walk again, but keeping an ear open for any more sounds.

"Vincent," Eric said, "You don't have to answer this if you don't want to, but I was wondering about this. Your left hand," Eric said, motioning to the now revealed hand, "What happened to it?"

Vincent looked at the hand. Anyone who looked at it would think that it was a gauntlet, with golden claws at the fingertips. Not so, it was part of the experiments that Hojo had performed, placed there after his hand was damaged. To Vincent, it was just another scar he had to bear.

"What makes you think something's wrong with my hand," Vincent asked, thinking of a way to divert Eric's attention away from the hand, allowing Vincent to once again forget it himself.

"Nothing really, I just noticed that it was only your left hand. I figured if it were a glove, you'd have one on both hands, unless it's just a fashion statement."

"Yes, it's just a fashion statement," Vincent lied. Just because he was looking out for Eric didn't mean he had to know all of his secrets.

When they were about half a mile away from the cave, Eric stopped. Vincent also stopped, hearing the same sound from before, a deep rumbling sound, except this time, they didn't just hear it, they felt it. The ground trembled, throbbed like a heart, vibrating, then stopping, vibrating, and then stopping. Suddenly, a rock-shattering roar pierced the mountain air, emanating from the cave the two had just left. Still looking back to the cave, Vincent uttered one word to Eric.

"Run."

Well, that's the end of another chapter. I not really good at battle scenes, so please understand if it seemed a little weird. Thanks.


	4. Dance of the Deadly Dragon

"V—Vincent!" Eric asked, practically drowning in panic, "What was that!" The earth shaking started again, and a huge roar erupted from the mountains behind them. Vincent didn't say anything, but continued to look in the direction of the sound. Eric turned his eyes in the same direction, and saw a huge tongue of flame shoot up into the darkening sky.

"What is that?" he asked again, his voice a terrified whisper.

"A red dragon…." Vincent replied, his voice having only the smallest amount of fear in it.

"A dragon?"

Vincent didn't answer, but instead turned and started to walk back down the path. "Stay close and move fast," he ordered, and Eric did not have to be told twice.

"Vincent? What are we going to do!" Eric asked, following as closely as he could to the man.

"You are going to calm yourself," Vincent hissed, not stopping or even slowing down. "And will not speak," he continued, "If you must, do it in a whisper."

"But-" Eric started again, but stopped when he realized he was still talking loudly. He started again, this time whispering. "But, what about the dragon, what if he finds us?" Suddenly, another roar came from behind them, this time closer, and the two twisted their heads around. When no flames leapt up this time, Vincent looked down at Eric, and for the first time since he had met him, Eric saw a look of slight fear and anger mixed together in the man's eyes. "If the dragon finds us, heaven forbid, we shall have to defend ourselves. Until then, we shall remain silent, keeping your ears and eyes open for any signs of the beast, understand?"

Eric said nothing, but nodded his head quickly, his fear evident on his face. He had never seen a dragon before, let alone fought one, and now, he was in the middle of the mountains, being chased by one. How Vincent expected him to remain calm was beyond him, but he decided to give it a shot. It was better then panicking, anyway.

The two continued on in silence, and came to a ravine. The grey stone path they were on wrapped around the mountain and led onward towards the other side. The path itself was narrow, just enough for them to walk sideways along, and below, the ravine opened like the maw of some gigantic beast, with nothing but darkness below. Vincent started along the edge, and Eric watched him move gracefully along the edge, and found himself both envious and fearful. What if he couldn't get across as well as Vincent?

"There is no time for hesitation," Vincent said as he looked over at Eric, "You must make your decision now…..stay or go."

Eric nodded, and then gulped hard. Sweat beading on his head, he placed his back as flat against the cold stone as possible, and then took his first step onto the walkway. He looked up to Vincent, fear in his eyes, his stomach flipping so much that Eric was afraid he may heave right then and there.

"Do not focus on what is below you," Vincent instructed, "It is there, yes, but there are other things to focus on. Look only at me, not at your feet and not on the chasm….only on me."

Eric tried to squeak out a yes, but it didn't come, so he looked straight at Vincent. He took a step, but found himself looking back down at his feet again.

"Look at me!" Vincent shouted. Eric jerked his eyes back up and looked at Vincent again. He took a step, and found that it wasn't as hard as he thought it would be. His eyes never left Vincent's as he came around the path. He sighed with a certain amount of pride as he came to the end.

A screech wiped away the pride at that moment, and startled him. He came forward off the wall and started to fall forward, just as a huge, crimson shadow passed below in the chasm. Eric, his arms flailing for something to grab onto, started to fall forward. His footing slipped and he fell forward towards the inky blackness below.

Suddenly, he felt something grab onto the back of his collar. Eric looked up, still completely breathless from seeing his entire life pass before his eyes, and saw Vincent, his right hand gripping Eric's shirt tightly, his clawed hand digging deeply into the stone wall. For a moment, it seemed as if time had stopped, for Eric was too paralyzed with fear to think or feel anything else. He probably would have hung there for a while if Vincent hadn't grunted.

"You do not honestly think I am going to hold on forever, do you? If you wish to, I can let go…"

"Oh, sorry," Eric called up, brought out of his daze. "But, how do you think I should get back up?"

"Use your imagination," Vincent replied, and Eric could tell he was getting annoyed. Suddenly, the dragon roared again, and Eric saw in the distance, what seemed to be a blot in the setting sun. After a moment, it got larger and larger, and Eric came to the horrible realization that it was the dragon. The beast was coming straight at him, its huge jaws open, its sharp fangs glimmering in the sun.

"Vincent!" Eric screamed as the monster came but a few yards away. Smoke hissed from the beast's nostrils, and Eric closed his eyes, not wanting to see his end.

When he did, he felt himself being lifted, and Vincent growling as he pulled him up. Eric flew through the air, sailed onto the rough stone area connected to the ravine path, and rolled across for a moment before stopping. He looked up to see Vincent standing over him, his normally cool eyes blazing. In an instant, the fires died, and Vincent's visage returned to its normally unreadable calm.

"Th-thank you," Eric stammered as he rose to his feet. Vincent didn't say anything, but simply turned away. Eric thought he saw the man trembling slightly, but decided that it was simply his eyes playing tricks. After all, he did just survive a near-death experience.

"We must hurry forward," Vincent said as he headed towards the path that continued onward. The area they were in looked like it had been a cave at one point, with high walls that started to curve overhead; the only thing missing was the ceiling and the walls, and by how high and wide the whole thing was, Eric could guess that it had been a large crevice indeed. He hurried to catch up with Vincent, though, his fear of the dragon much greater then his curiosity for geological formations.

"Vincent, wait for me," he called as he ran to catch up. As he approached, Vincent motioned for silence, and Eric obeyed. The sound of a small pebble clicking down the side of the wall was the only sound Eric heard, but before he even processed what the sound was, Vincent grabbed his shoulder and pulled him backwards.

Right before his eyes, Eric watched a cascade of boulders come rumbling down the side of the mountain. Huge boulders rained down onto the path they had been standing on just a moment ago, and as the dust and rumbling ended, Eric saw that the entire path had been blocked by the debris.

"What…was…that?" Eric asked, completely stunned by the avalanche.

"Company," was all Vincent said before a huge slamming sound came from behind them. The two jerked around to see the dragon standing before them, its huge red eyes smoldering with hunger and rage.

Eric looked at the monster, his mind and eyes almost entranced by its appearance. Its scales shimmered in the darkening light like thousands of rubies, catching and reflecting the light in a beautiful, almost intoxicating way. The only thing that reminded Eric that the thing before him was intent on devouring him was a the roar that it unleashed.

"Eric!" Vincent called, and Eric came to his senses just in time to see the beast inhale deeply. The force of the wind pulled Eric towards the beast's maw, and Eric looked to Vincent for help. Just as suddenly, the wind stopped, and the dragon released a huge plume of fire, the heat sucking away Eric's breath as he leapt to the left and Vincent to the right. The dragon whipped its head around, searching for the younger, less threatening target.

Eric saw the dragon turn its burning eyes on him, and a burst of sparks spouted from its nose, falling and bowing through the air. Eric managed to avoid some, but as many as he dodged, he got burned by just as many. The dragon growled, though it sounded more like a chuckle, and for a moment of either stupidity or pure courage, Eric glared at the beast. This was, though, not the most intelligent thing for him to do.

The dragon curved its body around, forming a semi-circle around the trapped Eric. His back to the wall, there was nowhere for Eric to run; he was trapped. A slight wimper escape his lips as he hoped that it didn't hurt too bad when the dragon chewed on him, and that he would be dead quickly. Still, he wouldn't go down without a fight, so he threw a Blizzard spell. It struck the dragon's side, hissing when it touched the burning scales. The dragon did not even flinch, and Eric knew that his time was up. As the great creature's maw inched closer, Eric nearly swooned.

Suddenly, Vincent appeared on the dragon's neck, holding tightly onto its horns for support. The man's eyes burned almost as brightly as the dragon's, as he aimed his rifle expertly in between the monster's eyes. The sudden jerk of the dragon's head when it realized it had a passenger knocked of Vincent's aim however, and he ended up only shooting the dragon's upper jaw. It shook its head violently and Eric saw that it was all Vincent could do to hang on.

Moving quickly, Eric cast another Blizzard spell. This one was slightly larger then the last, and certainly took more energy, but he didn't want to waste the opportunity. Unfortunately, it reaped the same effect as the last spell, with it turning into a mist the moment it touched the ruby scales. Eric actually growled in frustration at the ineffective spell, but didn't get too much time to think on it.

The dragon lowered its head with a jerk, flipping Vincent forward. The gunman rolled swiftly toward the stone wall, but rose to his feet and skidded the last few inches expertly. Taking aim once again, Vincent released a flurry of shots all over the dragon, each bullet shattering its scales and burying deep in the creature's flesh. Eric stood amazed as he watched Vincent's entire visage and movements, each deliberate and thought out. He could see that the man was aiming with eagle-eye preciseness, and felt somewhat envious of his abilities.

The dragon was obviously growing irritated, and started to inhale for another blast. Vincent and Eric prepared for another dive, but instead were both met with a surprise. Instead of searing flames, the dragon released a huge billow of foul smelling, black smoke. It rolled forward and caught Eric and Vincent in its choking embrace. Eric fell to the ground, gagging on the ash and smog that clouded his eyes and burned his lungs. He thought he heard similar sounds coming from Vincent's direction, and thought to crawl over to him. Keeping his head down, but still choking profusely on the air, he made his way over to the gunman. A sudden thud and grunt cause him to open his eyes, despite the ash that brought tears to them. Vincent's own coughs were suddenly silent, and Eric felt a terrible sickness in his stomach. Where was Vincent? What happened to him? Eric wanted nothing more then to rush to him, but the cloud of smoke, along with the threat of the dragon made him too scared to move. Vincent would have told me to stay put, he thought to himself as he tried to crawl blindly out of the cloud. Suddenly, and just ahead of him, Eric heard another grunt, this one louder. It was followed by a clicking sound, like something metal falling on stone. He struggled to where he had heard the sound, and as he felt around the ground with his hands, they encountered something cold and metallic. Trying his best to stay calm, he brushed his fingers along the metal and found it was the barrel of a gun.

Suddenly, the smoke disappeared, blown away by a strong wind. The force of the wind knocked him backwards, and he coughed one last time as the remainder of the smoke cleared his lungs. He picked up Vincent's gun, a long pistol, almost as long as a rifle, and looked for the man. His eyes met a horrifying sight.

Before him was the dragon, a wicked, triumphant sneer evident in its eyes. It was looking at Vincent, who, to Eric's shock, was ensnared by the dragon's tail. It had bound the man completely, so that Eric could only really see Vincent's head and shoulders. He watched as the dragon tightened its hold, and Vincent cried out in pain. A cracking noise made Eric's stomach turn as he realized that the beast was crushing Vincent's bones.

"Stop it!" Eric shouted as he lifted up Vincent's gun. He couldn't aim properly because his eyes were tearing up with both rage and the ash that still lingered in them. He simply tried to hit some part of the dragon. The gun fired, and he heard the dragon growl.

Eric's eyes cleared up just in time to see the dragon's claw swinging towards him. It struck him full-on, and the dragon pinned him against the stone wall like a butterfly on a board. He struggled to break free, but was too tired to go on. Everything was hopeless. He and Vincent were going to die, and it was entirely his fault.

He was the one who invaded the mansion, he was the one who had brought them out into the mountains, and he was the one who slowed down Vincent's escape.

Everything was his fault.

Using the last bit of his strength, he reached out to the materia on his belt, trying to use one…it didn't matter which. When he tried, nothing happened, his energy too depleted, and he thrashed about, not a hope to escape, but out of simple frustration.

"I'm so sorry Vincent!" he cried out before he turned to the dragon. "I hope you…choke…" he sobbed. Mustering the last bit of anger, frustration and remorse he had left he screamed out, "Forgive me, Vincent!"

Suddenly, a horrible pain in his head took him. It spread quickly throughout his entire body, and soon, he was thrashing around in agony. Something was screaming in his head words he couldn't understand, and on his belt a materia began to glow. A wave shot out from his body, blasting the dragon backward and freeing both himself and Vincent from the terrible monster's grasp. Eric was able to see Vincent fall to the ground, coughing for breath, and then another wave of pain came over him.

Just as suddenly as this pain started, it stopped, and was replaced with a cool, icy feeling. A woman then appeared before him, stepping out of tin air. She was beautiful, with piercing sapphire eyes and lustrous, robin-egg colored hair. Her skin was the color of the sky, and her very aura radiated wisdom and timeless beauty. Eric felt absolutely in awe of the woman, and suddenly felt the impulse to kneel before her as if she were a queen. He glanced over to Vincent, to see if the man was seeing what he was seeing, but Vincent was lying on the ground, his eyes closed. The dragon stood a foot or two back, but seemed to be frozen in time, a horrible roar on the verge of escaping its mouth.

"Do not be afraid," the woman said quietly, comfortingly. Her voice sounded like snow falling, and it carried the tone of a mother. "Time has merely slowed for you. Do not be afraid."

"But I-" Eric started, but stopped when the woman raised a finger to her lips, a gesture meaning for him to be silent.

"I have but a moment," she said quickly, "But do not worry for yourself or Vincent. I promise that you both shall make it back to Nibelheim safely." With that, the woman lifted her hand, and blew gently across her palm. A flurry of snowflakes blew towards Eric from the woman's hand and swirled around him. As they did, the woman disappeared, leaving the scene exactly as when she had arrived.

Eric watched her vanish, and suddenly became aware he was different. He couldn't tell what at first, only that he had changed. It wasn't until something very cold draped itself over his shoulders. He glanced over and watched a pair of wings, blue and crystal clear, unfurl to his left and right from off his back. For some reason, it didn't seem in the least bit strange. He looked at his hands and watched them take on a blue color that matched the woman's. His hair swirled around his head in the frigid air that surrounded him, and he caught glimpses of icy blue strands instead of his usual black. The entire transformation complete, he looked at the dragon with cold, blue eyes. The beast seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then charged forward. Eric flew upward with a simple thought, missing the dragon's charge. Smiling coldly, he fired a series of crystalline orbs, each one striking the beast's scaly spine. The dragon whipped its head around and launched a blast of flame, but Eric's winged curved around him, blocking the attack. His wings melted away as the attack ended, but reappeared just as quickly, growing from his back like frost spreading across glass. Landing safely on the ground, Eric spread out his wings, and they shattered into tiny shards. Pointing his hand forward, the shards reacted to this silent command and flew towards the dragon. It tried to move its huge frame, but was not quick enough, and its body was pierced by the hundreds of tiny ice needles.

His wings reforming once again, Eric waved his hand lightly in the air. A small cloud of snow flakes danced around his fingers, and he spun around on his toes, almost in a dance-like movement, which ended with him on his knees, and his finger once again pointed at the dragon. A blizzard seemed to appear out of nowhere from behind him, and as it blew across the area, it covered everything in a frost, from the rocks and boulders to the dragon and even Vincent. This caused the man to stir and look up, and Eric sighed with relief when he saw Vincent's red eyes again. They had a look of surprise in them, but seemed to be strangely curious. This pleased Eric, for he had finally managed to find a good, or at least not frustrated, look in Vincent's eyes.

Turning his attention back to the dragon, who was now actually shivering from the cold, Eric charged two orbs of freezing energy in his hands. They grew larger for a moment, then flew off on their own accord and struck the dragon. Thick sheets of ice crawled upwards on the dragon's skin, and with one final cry of pain, it became completely encased. Walking impassively over to monster, Eric blew lightly on the huge block, and sent it over the edge of the cliff, into the darkness below.

For a moment, there was silence, then a satisfying crash echoed from below, and Eric smiled grimly at the sound. Turning back to Vincent, he grinned somewhat sheepishly as he walked towards his friend. But even as he walked, he felt his energy start to seep out of him, and the pleasant cold feeling disappeared. In its stead, he only felt a weakness overcoming him, and darkness began to cloud his vision. He stumbled a few more steps before collapsing next to Vincent. With one final sigh, he felt the last bit of cold energy leave him and the darkness conquer his vision.

----------------------------------------

Eric groaned slightly as he opened his eyes. He was lying in bed, the one he had slept in the night before. The room was dark, apart from the light given off by the fire burning brightly in the fireplace. As he sat up, his head was suddenly assaulted by a huge headache. It made him dizzy, and he ended up putting his head back down on the pillow. Groaning as he rubbed his temples, he tried to look around without lifting his head from its place on the pillow.

"Good evening," he heard Vincent say from just beyond his peripheral vision. Slowly turning his head towards Vincent, Eric winced as the pain pounded in his head again.

"What happened…?" Eric asked, trying his best to prop himself up again. He managed to see Vincent leaning calmly against the window, looking through the glass. "What time is it?"

"It is 12:03 in the morning," Vincent replied without looking away from the window. "You have been unconscious for several hours."

"I kinda wish I still was," Eric grunted, holding his head. "I feel like I've got the world's biggest ice cream headache."

"Not surprising," Vincent answered, finally turning his gaze towards Eric. In the dim light, the man's eyes seemed to glow slightly, and it made Eric slightly unnerved. His head started to pound again, for which he was slightly glad….it gave him a reason to look away. "When you fell, your skin felt as cold as death," Vincent added as he approached, his shoes making only the slightest sound as he walked.

"So, how am I back here? I mean, it's obvious you brought me here, but I thought that you had been injured?"

"Nothing a simple spell could not fix. There will be a few scars, but nothing I haven't experienced before."

Eric just nodded, his mind not really even trying to process what the man was saying. "Give it to me straight, doc," Eric said somewhat jokingly, "Am I gonna pull through?" He knew that jokes were wasted on Vincent, but he just felt the need to throw it in there anyway.

"While I am no doctor," Vincent said, apparently ignoring Eric's comment, "You will be fine. A few bruises from where the dragon had pinned you down, but besides that, you will live to fight another day…"

"After that, I'd rather not fight again," Eric sighed.

"But you will. That is a simple fact you must learn, and the sooner you realize it, the better."

"But, why? What's the point anyway," Eric asked, becoming slightly frustrated, "I mean, we all die eventually, right?"

"While you are right in saying that people die, you are wrong in saying that it happens eventually…."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, thoroughly confused.

"Now is not the time," Vincent answered coldly, "Now, I want to know what happened up on the mountain."

Eric grimaced when Vincent pushed aside his answer, but he felt too weary to say anything.

"I can't really say…" Eric mumbled, "It was like..like a dream. Like I wasn't even there, but could still see everything going on. How did it look to you?"

Vincent didn't answer right away, his eyes closed in thought. He sat silently, and the only sound in the room for a few seconds was the crackling sound of the fire. Eric propped himself up against the wall, now thoroughly intrigued. As unnerving as the whole situation was, how unfamiliar and strange, Eric was fascinated somehow….and of course had many questions about it as well. Finally, Vincent opened his eyes, and after a slight sigh, began to describe what he had seen.

"At first, I'll admit I was in a slight daze. The dragon's attack had left me in a slight state of shock, but I managed to regain my senses long enough to see you. After the initial shockwave you released, you fell back against the wall, your eyes empty, lifeless almost. I was unsure of what was happening, and thought that perhaps you were in a state of shock yourself. But then, snow fell around you, and you alone. A moment later, your skin changed color, as well as your hair, and eyes, and finally you had a set of wings on you back…..That was all I saw before I had succumbed to unconsciousness."

Eric noticed that Vincent had a hard time saying that last part, and realized that the whole thing must have been slightly embarrassing for the man, for Vincent didn't seem like the type to be taken by surprise.

"What happened?" Vincent asked quietly, "I want you to explain everything in detail."

Eric wanted to, but he wasn't sure he could. Things seemed so strange now, that if he tried to explain it, he would have felt like he was telling a fairy tale. Still, he remember some of it, and so he tried his best. He told Vincent about the woman, what she had said; everything that he could recall he told Vincent and described it as best he could.

"Which brings me to here," Eric finished. He couldn't express the confusion that was welling up inside of him, the confusion that had started building since he began re-telling his story.

Vincent didn't speak after Eric had finished, but instead looked into the fire, a look of deep thought etched upon his pale face. The two sat in silence once again, and this time, Eric started to fidget from the uncomfortable feeling that had fallen over him. Finally, he could hold the silence no longer, and turned to the man standing above him.

"Vincent….I'm sorry," he started. When Vincent didn't respond, Eric decided that he should explain. "See, I didn't mean to put you in danger….I didn't want to cause so much trouble. I should have….I should have just left when you told me too-"

"Indeed, you should have," Vincent suddenly interrupted, "And yet, you did not. Once again, Mr. Constantine, you remind me of a young acquaintance of mine. She also had trouble following directions….."

"I am sorry I almost got you killed-"

"That is one fault I shall not have placed upon your shoulders," Vincent said suddenly, surprising Eric by the sudden tone of his voice. It seemed slightly rushed, as if Vincent wanted to cut off the thought. "The dragon, and the threat to my personal well-being, was entirely my own fault. It seems that I have grown careless in these two years since I have been out in the world….."

Two years…

Eric wanted to ask what he meant, but certainly Vincent, seeming to already be a bit more melancholy then usual, probably didn't feel like having the subject pushed any farther.

"Even so," Eric continued, "I think that…that it would be best if I left as soon as possible."

"If I may be so bold," Vincent replied, "That is surprisingly mature of you. What has brought you to making such a decision?"

"Don't act all serious like that, Vincent," Eric chuckled, "You know you're just glad to get rid of me."

Vincent didn't say anything for a moment, but looked at Eric with his serious eyes, almost a small glare in them. "When do you plan on leaving?" he asked, without blinking or looking away.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Eric asked, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable again.

"I only wish to see in your eyes whether you are lying or not. I would hate to begin any celebrations if you are going to return in the middle of them…"

Eric, still feeling slightly awkward, simply nodded and said, "Tomorrow morning."

"Very well," Vincent replied, finally looking away and standing up. "I suggest you get some rest…your experience has left you quite tired….I can still see it in your eyes."

"Alright," Eric nodded, as he watched the man walk out the door. "Good night," he called after Vincent, but the man didn't respond with anything other than closing the door.

After Vincent had left, Eric became aware of the sleepiness that was creeping over him, and so he laid his head back down on the pillow and let sleep take him.

The next morning, Eric awoke to find that the sun was just peeking over the mountains of Nibelheim through his window. He stretched and yawned, the looked out the window again, mumbling to himself, "Vincent's early bird syndrome must be rubbing off on me…" before he resist the urge to go back to sleep and climbed out of bed.

He grabbed a red shirt and his black pants out of his bag, and threw them on before heading downstairs. Hoping no other creatures were lurking about, Eric stepped towards the front door when he thought he heard a sound in the kitchen. Something in his head said to not go towards it, that it was probably some other spirit, but his curiosity was greater. Besides, he told himself, I'll just take a peek. If it's a monster, then I'll just leave it alone.

He opened the door slowly and looked through the small crack. Nothing appeared to be stirring in the small kitchen, so he pushed the door further in and stepped inside. Glancing around quickly, he noticed a small stack of fresh fruit on the counter, with a small, white package next to it. He walked quietly over to the fruit and looked at the white bundle. It was small, about as long and wide as his hand, maybe a little longer. The white wrapping was paper, and it was tied with string. On the paper was the name, "Mr. Constantine" written in a beautiful, flowing script. He undid the string and paper, and found that it had been wrapping a small, black glasses case. The other side of the paper bore a note, written in the same handwriting as the front. Eric read over it slowly, and realized that it was from Vincent, though there hadn't been much doubt who it was from.

To Mr. Constantine:

I am writing this letter as a way of saying my farewell. I wish you good fortune upon your travels, and hope that perhaps, someday, you shall reach the end of your road. To help you along the way, I have left you this food, as a token of thanks for aiding me in my time of need. It should be sufficient for a day or so. I have also placed a small amount of gil beneath the fruit, which you may use as you see fit. Finally, the glasses case to which this letter was attached contains something of value I am sure you shall find most interesting. I only ask that, in return, you do not seek me out to say farewell yourself, nor should you open the case until you have left Nibelheim. These are the only requests that I leave you with, and I hope, though somehow doubt, you shall follow them.

Once again, I hope that fortune will smile upon your trip, and that you come safely to wherever you may set your mind on going.

Your Unwilling Patron,

Vincent Valentine.

Eric sighed as he folded up the letter. "How sterile," he said quietly, glancing around the kitchen, half expecting Vincent to appear. When he didn't, Eric sighed again and put the fruit carefully into his bag, but decided to put the note and case into his pocket. Under the fruit, he found a small bag, and within it was, from what Eric could tell, was about four thousand Gil. Eric was astounded by the amount, because he had never seen that much before, and only wished that Vincent was around for him to thank him, but the man never made his presence known if he was around.

As Eric walked quietly out the mansion, he stopped only once as he opened the door to look back into the dimly light front hall.

"Thanks, Vincent…" he said quietly as he stepped outside and closed the door.

Walking quietly through the streets of Nibelheim, Eric felt a heavy pull on his heart. Vincent was, although he wouldn't agree, Eric's first companion in quite some time. He had always been nervous about making friends, but decided that if Vincent was willing to risk his own life to save Eric's, then he was trustworthy enough. The moment he stepped out of Nibelheim, he pulled the glasses case out of his pocket and clicked it open. What he saw caused him to gasp slightly.

Sitting in the soft, black lining of the case was a single, crystalline, blue feather, catching and reflecting the rays of the early morning light.


	5. When Eric Met Yuffie

I don't own any of the characters except for Eric.

The sky was a deep blue, filled with wispy clouds that floated about. The grass was a cool green, and Eric had taken off his shoes to feel the blades between his toes. A warm breeze gently blew, and pushed Eric's long hair, which was now out of its ponytail, around his shoulders. Everything this morning seemed beautiful to Eric, who had slept beneath the stars last night, and had awoken early to get started once again with his travels. As he took in the entire world around him, he stopped for a moment. He hadn't quite understood until today just how much in life he took for granted. I guess nearly being eaten by a dragon will do that to you, he thought out loud with a chuckle.

He left the ring of mountains that surrounded Nibelheim and headed for the forest beyond its boarder. He loved the woods, the trees, and the shade, the overall feeling of a forest. It gave him a happiness and peace. Little did he know he was being watched.

The form of a person suddenly dropped from one of the branches, causing Eric to jump back. The figure was a young girl, about Eric's age. She had short brown hair that went to her shoulders, with a headband around her forehead, right above her bright, brown eyes. She wore a blue shirt, and a pair of white shorts. Her shoes were a dark orange, and she had a large, arm guard on her left arm.

She looked at Eric sweetly, then walked up to him. When she was two feet away, she took a cross off her belt, and pressed a small button in the center. Instantly, sharp tips came out of the ends of the cross, forming it into a large shurikan, about as high as the girl's knee.

"Hello there," she said in a sweet yet threatening tone, "I'll be happy to relieve you of your materia."

"What?" Eric asked, looking at her like she had two heads.

"I said," the girl stated flatly, her voice losing its sweetness, "Give me your materia, or I'll cut you in half."

"I think not," Eric replied, his tone matching his attacker's. "Besides," he said, indicating the belt he wore, "this materia's so weak, it would probably not be of any use to you anyway."

"Don't give me that," the girl said disgustedly, "An infant could tell that that almost all of those materia are mastered. So be a good little boy and hand them all over."

Eric saw that this situation was dangerous. This girl seemed serious, and Eric was in no mood for another fight.

"This is the last time I'll say it," the girl said, he voice starting to sound irritated, "give me the materia."

But Eric didn't answer. He was casting a spell. The girl saw it, and threw the shurikan as hard as she could. Eric expected this, and dove out of the way, letting the shurikan fly past him harmlessly and imbed itself in a tree. The girl looked at him sheepishly, then ran to the tree. Eric was surprised how quickly she moved, and wondered if a Slow spell would even do any good. Still, as the girl struggled with the shurikan, Eric cast Slow on her. Just then, the shurikan came loose, sending the girl flying head-over-heels backwards. She stood up quickly, as quickly as the spell allowed, and looked at Eric with a childish pout on her face. Eric just stood there, laughing and laughing until his stomach hurt. The girl's face turned red, and she looked like she would explode, which caused Eric to laugh even harder.

"What is so funny!" she demanded angrily.

"It's just..just," Eric stuttered, trying to get a hold of himself, trying to subdue the laughter. "It's just that I've never, never seen a person's feet go over their head like that," he explained, before bursting into a fresh bout of laughter.

The girl didn't say anything, but instead threw that shurikan, this throw cutting into Eric's shoulder as it flew by, then returned to her. Eric's laughter turned to grunts of pain, and as he saw the blood coming from his shoulder, he knew that the situation was no laughing matter.

Eric ran back against the edge of the clearing, ducked behind a tree for cover, and prepared another spell, hoping that the girl wouldn't be fast enough to stop him. After she had thrown her shurikan, it had returned to her instead of getting stuck in a tree, and she looked to throw it again. She was just about to throw when Eric had ducked behind the tree. Eric cast Haste on himself, just to be on the safe side, then ran out from behind the tree. A flying shurikan greeted him, but he was able to dodge it easily. He cast Fire on the girl, and it exploded, sending her flying straight up in the air. She landed on the ground, with the shurikan coming back to land at her feet.

"Not fair," she said, standing up and brushing herself off.

"Well, neither is you trying to steal the materia I worked so hard to build up," Eric replied.

"I never steal," the girl explained, "I forcibly relieve."

"Well that makes it all better," Eric answered sarcastically.

"Glad you see it my way," she said back.

Eric had had enough. He was going to end this now. He activated another materia, this one red.

"Shiva," he said quietly, " I could use a little help here."

The girl saw Eric cast, but because of the Haste spell he had, she couldn't stop him in time. He vanished, and in his placed stepped a woman. She was icy blue, with blue hair and eyes as well as her skin. She waved her hand in front of her, and a streak of ice froze the girl's feet to the ground. Then Shiva lifted her arms above her head, and charged a large ball of blue light. She brought the light down in front of her, and a huge wave of ice came forth from the ball, freezing over not only the girl, but most of the clearing as well. Shiva then snapped her fingers, and all the ice shattered into a fine dust. The girl fell to her knees, her arms around herself, shivering hard. Eric reappeared right in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest, looking at her with a look of conquest.

"Do you still want to kill me?"

"Yes, you little brat," she replied, still rubbing her hands on her, trying to get warm. "You humiliate me, and then almost kill me, and you ask if I still want to kill you. You're unbelievable!"

"Look," Eric said, starting to get exasperated, ""If you're done playing pretend thief, I really need to get moving. I have a long way to go, so if you don't mind, I'll just be leaving now."

"Where ya going," the girl asked as she stood up, acting as if they had been friends their entire lives.

"Not really sure," Eric said, not thinking it smart to tell a girl who tried to kill him where he was going.

"Well, I'm going to find rare materia," the girl countered, acting like she became the new president of Shinra, "And then I'm going to sell them all and become fabulously rich."

"Okay then, you won't mind if I just leave then?" Eric asked as he walked off intp the woods, not really paying attention to her. Now he understood why Vincent acted the way he did. Acting like that made Eric feel cool. Maybe he should always act like this. Nah, it was kinda rude, and not everyone would be like that girl anyway.

"Fine, fine, I don't need you anyway, or your large…collection of..powerful..materia," the girl stuttered. Wait a minute, what am I thinking, she thought to herself. This kid's loaded with materia, and I just let him walk away. Maybe if I stick with him I'll get a chance to steal his materia again. Boy, this is better than when I met Cloud. She smiled to herself mischievously, then ran to catch up.

"Hey! Wait up!" she called.

"What now?" Eric called back, becoming very annoyed.

"I want to come with you."

"Why?"

"Well, if you're just wandering around, then maybe you'll go someplace with rare materia," the girl explained.

"I guess," Eric said, thinking that it would be nice to have someone to talk to, even if it was this girl.

"My name's Eric, by he way," he said, as the two stepped out of the relativley small forest.

"I'm The Great Ninja Yuffie!" Yuffie proclaimed, while striking a pose, as if Eric should recognize the name.

"Okay," Eric said, walking on. Then again, if she was going to act like this constantly, it might not be a bad idea to leave her behind.

The day passed without incident. They stopped in a small town to buy supplies, sleeping bags, and some spare changes of clothes. Yuffie already had all this, but Eric required it all. They set out shortly after and continued on for the rest of the day, and as night began to creep into the sky, they made ready to camp. Eric made a fire, while Yuffie busied herself with getting out food. After they had eaten, they sat across from each other around the fire and talked.

"So," Yuffie began, as she finished off a piece of bread, "Where are you going. I mean, do you have some destination?"

"Not really, I just go where the wind takes me, you know," Eric answered.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. How old are you?" she asked.

"Sixteen."

"I'm seventeen. My birthday was last month. When's yours?"

"In two months."

"That's nice," Yuffie said absently.

Eric sat quietly for a few minutes, and then asked, "Are you from Wutai?"

"Yes," Yuffie asked, "What makes you ask?"

"Well, your fighting style, for one. And the fact you called yourself the Great Ninja Yuffie."

"Well I am," she said a little indignantly.

"I believe you," Eric lied, "I was just wondering."

"Why."

"Well, I was talking with a friend of mine, Vincent, and-"

"Vincent?" Yuffie interrupted, "What's his last name?"

"Valentine," Eric answered, "Why?"

"I know him," Yuffie said, "We saved the world together."

Eric looked at her in disbelief. His first thought was that they had been friends together as little kids, and pretended to save the world. But Yuffie seemed sincere, so he decided to take the bait.

"Really? How?" he asked, pretending to believe her.

"We beat Sephiroth and stopped Meteor," she answered, as if it were all in a day's work for her. Come to think of it, Eric thought to himself, he did hear about someone from Wutai in the group that had stopped the Meteor. The name Sephiroth also sounded very familiar, like he had heard it recently, but where?

"Did you hear me?" Yuffie asked, "I said that we stopped Meteor."

"I heard you, but, let's be honest here, I find it hard to believe you."

"Why?"

"Well, why would a heroine be out trying to steal materia from innocent travelers?"

"It's what I do. I'm a materia hunter," she said, like that was enough to excuse her behavior.

"Well, that's still wrong, isn't it?"

"No, 'cause if it was, then I would hear complaints, and so far I've heard none."

"Well, is that because they liked being robbed, or perhaps you leaving them dead in the woods was good enough."

"I have never killed anyone that didn't deserve it," Yuffie said angrily, standing up.

"Like who," Eric said sarcastically, really starting to wish that he hadn't asked her join him.

"A disgusting scientist for one, Hojo. And then there wa-"

"You killed Hojo?" Eric interrupted, his jaw dropping.

"Well, Vincent and Cloud helped, but I did the most work."

Eric couldn't believe it. Vincent had killed Hojo. This more than made up for Eric saving Vincent's life, which Vincent said he owed Eric for. Whether Vincent realized it or not, he had saved Eric's life. Then he remembered that Vincent had said that Hojo was dead. Vincent knew that Eric had been running from the man, had known the trouble he had caused Eric, but he never said that he had been the one who killed that monster of a man.

"Eric, you alright?" Yuffie asked, hitting him on the back of the head.

"What was that for?" Eric asked angrily as he was jerked from his thoughts.

"You zoned out. I was just making sure you were okay."

"I'm fine," Eric said, his tone deadly.

"Good, cause I'm going to sleep, so be sure to put out the fire," Yuffie ordered.

"Whatever," Eric mumbled, as he rubbed the back of his head where Yuffie had hit him.

As Eric cast a Blizzard spell to put out the fire, and crawled into his sleeping bag, he thought about the news he had just received. Vincent was a hero, and had saved Eric's life on two occasions already. Perhaps it wasn't wise to leave the mansion. No, it was for the best that he left. Besides, he could always go back for a visit later. Eric closed his eyes, with the future in mind, and fell asleep with visions of the wide world filling his head.


	6. Whatever happened to the Turks?

The only character I own in this portion of the story is Velk.

"What do you mean, 'he disappeared'?" Velk, the new head of Research & Development asked through clenched teeth. He had recently replaced Hojo, to whom he had been a devoted lab assistant, and was ready to start his old projects, especially one that had been forgotten after the Sephiroth incident. "Project Draw is too important to have its main specimen disappear!"

"I understand that sir," Tseng said, also through clenched teeth. Due to recent problems involving profit drops and a loss of support from the public, Shinra was forced to move its Turk group to a test subject collection group for the R&D. The Turks weren't too happy about the new arrangements, so much so that only Tseng, Reno, and Rude remained in what used to be a feared group of assassins. Now they had to sit around in a stuffy lab, waiting for Velk to send them out for an organism of some kind, whether it be monster, plant or a human off the street.

"Hojo was a fool!" Velk suddenly exploded, bringing Tseng out of his thoughts, "He let quite possibly the biggest key to Mako drawing go free, while he endangered the planet by following fairy tales!"

"So what shall we do?" Tseng asked, knowing that if he didn't ask, he would end up listening to Velk rant for another hour.

"You're going to find him! That's what you're going to do! Tell those other worthless pigs in the Turk group that if I don't have the lost specimen soon, I will use you three instead!"

"Yes sir," Tseng said quickly, then left the room, hoping that Velk didn't have any other orders. He was tired of taking orders from that creep.

He walked quietly down the hall towards the Turks barracks, which was actually the old rest room next to the Executive Weight Room. Things were really bad for everyone in Shinra right now, not just the Turks. Reeve, the Head of Urban Development had quit his job, though he was going to be fired already for betraying the company. Rufus sat in his office all day, looking over graphs that never showed improvements for the company. The other executives did practically the same thing, without getting paid as much. Tseng didn't think the company could go on much longer.

Maybe I should get out while the getting's good, he thought to himself as he approached the door to the Turks barracks. No, can't do that. I'd have nowhere to go. Besides, who'd keep Reno out of trouble?

He opened the door to the barracks and stepped inside. The place smelled bad. Since the gym was next door, the scent of sweat traveled through the vent to their side of the wall, and no amount of air fresheners really ever got rid of the smell. He looked around for his partners, Reno and Rude. Reno, as ever, was admiring himself in the mirror, and trying to get his shirt just right. He said that having it show just enough of his chest made the girls go crazy, so he spent almost every free moment trying to find the perfect way to wear his shirt and jacket. Rude sat on his bunk, reading quietly. Rude didn't speak much, though he really didn't need to. His presence was enough to grab anyone's attention, at least anyone who could see his intimidating six-foot six build.

"Hey Tseng!" Reno called to him as he entered into the smelly room, "I got a question for you."

"What, Reno?" Tseng answered, knowing what was coming. Another joke about the room.

"What part of the slums is worse then this room?"

"What?"

"None of 'em. Hahaha, get it Tseng?"

"Yeah, I get it," Tseng said for the third time this week.

"So what's the big kahuna want this time?" Reno asked, as he turned back to the mirror and started brushing his dark red hair. Rude looked up from his reading and lifted his sunglasses of his eyes and onto the top of his completely bald head.

"He wants us to find some kid. He says that Hojo had him at one point, here as part of the Turks actually, and then he ran off. After the Sephiroth incident, he was forgotten about until Velk found this," Tseng explained, before tossing a folder onto the only table in the room. "It's his personal records from when he was in Shinra."

"So who is it? Someone we know," Reno asked, turning away from his reflection to see the file. Rude got up and walked over, his curiosity peaked.

"I don't know, I haven't looked at it yet," Tseng answered. He flipped open the file.

"Says here his name is Eric Constantine," Reno read, after he snatched the file up, "Age when he joined Shinra was seven, and the age he ran off at was..hmm, I can't read it, the type is smeared."

"Sixteen," Rude said, startling his Tseng and Reno.

"But according to his date of birth, he would currently be seventeen. So he was on the run before the Sephiroth incident," Tseng pointed out, "And has been running for a whole year. That's how he avoided being found. The Sephiroth incident distracted Shinra long enough for him to slip into obscurity."

"And when Hojo died, the research was all but forgotten," Reno added.

"Well, Velk wants him back, so I guess we better get going," Tseng said with a sigh. He thought they were done with kidnappings after Aeris, but beggers can't be choosers. It was work, even if Tseng wasn't a particular fan of taking people against their will.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Reno asked excitedly, "Let's get going."

"Hold on," Rude said suddenly, "Do we even have any idea on where to find him?"

"Good point," Reno said, as he turned back to the mirror to check his hair one more time.

"The file said that he was originally picked up near the Chocobo ranch. Sounds like as good a place as any to start looking."

"Alright then," Reno said, "Let's move out!"

As Reno and Rude walked out of the room, Tseng turned to regard himself in the mirror. He straightened his tie and gloves, and ran his hand over his long, raven black hair once. This is just another routine job, he told himself. There's absolutely nothing different about this one from any other assignment. Still, a feeling in his gut told him this was not just another assignment. He got this same feeling just before they went to get Aeris. He shrugged it off as nothing, and followed the other two out the door and to the helicopter pad.

As they climbed in, Tseng taking the pilot seat as always, Reno thought about how things had gone on previous assignments. He loved going out on missions, but he didn't like working for Velk. Velk was creepy, more so then Hojo in some ways, mostly because anyone who crossed him usually ended up floating in a giant test tube as one of his experiments. They had to find this Eric, and fast. The thought of his chick-attracting self, floating in a vat of green liquid unnerved him more then a little.

And as the helicopter soared over the main Shinra building, Rude thought about his fellow Turks. He never said it out loud, but had had always seen the three of them as best friends, even when they were training to become Turks. He just hoped that neither of them got hurt. They were the only family he had, and they were the only ones who could understand what he was saying, without him actually saying it.

When they had landed south of the Chocobo ranch, so as not to attract attention, they all looked at each other with concern in their eyes. They all had a bad feeling about this mission, but the knew that it was their job, whether they liked it or not.

As they started towards their destination on foot, Reno suddenly stopped.

"Alright, guys, hands in," Reno said cheerfully, and then stuck his hand straight out in front of him. He insisted on doing this before every mission started, and after it ended, and Tseng and Rude had gotten used to the idea. Rude placed his hand on top of Reno's, and Tseng on top of Rude's.

"Now remember," Reno said seriously, "'All for one, and one for all'!" he proclaimed proudly, before the three of them lifted their hands into the air. The all smiled, and felt a little better about this mission. They began walking towards the Chocobo ranch when Rude said something quietly.

"Don't you think we look a little conspicuous?"

Tseng looked at their clothes. Ward was right. With them in their Turk uniforms, they would stick out like a sore thumb, a sore thumb that would bring unwanted attention. Tseng nodded his agreement, "We need new clothes."

"Maybe we could get some new ones from a town or something," Reno suggested.

"We also need to have a reason as to why we're looking for this kid," Tseng said quietly. This was going to be harder then looked. If people in towns learned that the Turks were around, then news of their presence could reach their target's ears, making for a more difficult chase.

"So now we have to find new clothes, make up a story and get new names," Tseng said with a sigh. Why did everything always have to be so complicated?

"Well, the only thing we need right now is new threads," Reno said, trying to take the helm.

"Perhaps Costa de Sol?" Rude suggested.

"It's too far away," Tseng explained.

"Not if we take the helicopter," Reno argued, "Think about it, Tseng. The sun, the surf, the ladies."

"It's too far," Tseng said again, knowing that it was useless to say so anyway. Once Reno had it in his head about seeing girls, arguing with him was pointless.

"Come on Tseng, you know you want to," Reno prodded.

"Whatever," Tseng consented. They did deserve a vacation, and just a little time there couldn't put them behind too much.

"Alright!" Reno cried happily, and even Rude smiled slightly. They climbed back into the helicopter and took off, Reno shouting, "Wahoo," every now and then, and Tseng wondering what on earth he had just done. There was no way that Reno was going to spend a few hours in Costa de Sol. It would end up being more like a couple days, if they were lucky, and there weren't many girls there.

The chopper landed on the military pad on the harbor, and the three of them climbed out into the bright sunshine. Reno already had his shirt and jacket off, and ran off in the direction of the beach. Tseng wanted to stop him, but it wasn't so important that Reno be around. It may actually be quiet for a change. Tseng turned to Rude, and said quietly, "Do you want to get the clothes or supplies?"

"Supplies," Rude said, and then walked off. Great, Tseng thought to himself, I'm stuck with clothes. He walked to the Cloth Cabana clothing store, hoping his current clothes weren't too noticeable.

After he finished picking out his own clothes, most which were somber colors, he started looking for clothes for Reno and Rude, but decided to have them come do it instead. He knew that anything he picked out for Reno would be returned for something else, so he didn't bother getting his clothes, and Rude wouldn't tell him what he wanted, so he didn't know what to get him. The sales clerk was a total ditz, and the customers were pushy and irritating, so Tseng wasn't in the mood for Reno's complaints. Reno could get his own stuff.

Reno sat on the beach in his newly bought swim trunks, taking in view. Of course, the view included several girls.

"Oh Reno, your so handsome," the blonde said.

"You're so muscular," the black haired girl said, stroking his arm.

"And you're so smart," the red head said, looking at him from behind her thin glasses frames, "I want to date you first, Reno."

"No, let me date you Reno," the blonde said, sounding desperate.

"Please, Reno, I want to date you," the black haired girl said, making a pout face.

Reno just laughed, "Ladies, ladies, there's plenty of Reno to go around. It's not like me and my awesome physique are going anywhere."

"Oh really!" the blonde said suddenly, with a voice that sounded disturbingly familiar, a voice that sounded like-

"President Rufus!" Reno awoke with a start, and jumped out of his beach chair. Rufus was there, in his white trench coat and all, looking at Reno with an angry glare.

"What are you doing here, Reno?" he demanded, his voice loud enough to attract the attention of other beach goers.

"I-well, sir, I just-well you see-" Reno stuttered.

"Be quiet, you idiot!" he shouted.

"Yes, sir," Rufus said quietly, and looked down at the sand.

"You half-brained idiot," Rufus said, with a deathly calm voice, "When I was informed by Velk about his project, and what it could mean for the company, I was impressed. But when he told me that he had sent the Turks out for the specimen, I knew we'd have to keep an eye on you. Fortunately, the helicopters all have tracking devices on them, so it was easy to find you. And it's a good thing to, because I find you here sleeping on a beach, while the company is practically going bankrupt. Where is Tseng, I need to speak with him."

"He is cunningly developing a disguise for easier traveling, sir."

"And Rude?"

"He is, well I don't know where he is,"

"So the other two are working, while you lounge in the sun and sand?"

"Yes, sir," Reno answered, knowing what was coming.

"Let me ask you something," Rufus said suddenly, turning his back on Reno.

"Yes, sir," Reno replied.

"Do you like the beach?"

"Um, yes, sir," Reno answered, not sure where this was going.

"Do you like the sun?"

"Yes."

"The surf?"

"Um, yes, sir."

"The sand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Rufus said calmly, the turned quickly and punched Reno squarely in the stomach. Reno fell to ground, coughing and trying to catch his breath from the hard hit, when he felt a boot on the back of his head. It pushed down, an forced his face right into the sand. Reno didn't struggle, knowing that once Rufus' anger was gone he would stop, and trying to escape would only prolong the sandy suffering. He felt Rufus grind his boot on the back of his head, then he lifted it up, and let Reno stand, still coughing and choking on sand. "Do not let me catch you sleeping while you are on this mission again. If I do, it will be one sleep from which you will not wake up," he threatened coldly. As he walked off, Reno spit the last of the sand that was in his mouth in Rufus' direction, but made sure he was far enough away not to hear him. Man I hate that guy, Reno thought as he brushed off the sand on his face and chest, and tried to get the sand out of his hair. He pulled on his shirt and thought for a moment. Would Rufus be tracking them the whole time? Maybe Tseng would know.

"Aw, come on, won't you talk to me?" the girl behind the counter asked. Rude just looked at her, and didn't say a word. "I like the strong, silent types, ya' know," she offered, as walked her fingers up his arm to his shoulder, "but how can I like you if you don't even tell me your name?"

Rude had been shopping here for awhile, trying to get together everything they needed, but what he didn't realize was that this girl had been watching him since he came in. When he went to pay for everything, the girl made her move, and for the past five minutes had been trying to get him to talk. Finally, Rude placed the amount owed on the counter, and waited for the girl to get the message. She did, and huffed and puffed about lost love and such as she rang up the order. Rude walked out of the building just in time to meet Tseng, who had been looking for Reno.

"Is Reno with you?" Tseng asked as he approached Rude, his hands full of clothes. Rude just shook his head, and then looked at the clothes in Tseng's hands.

"Oh," Tseng said, understanding the silent man, "I wasn't to sure if you had anything in particular you liked, and we didn't have much time, so I just grabbed something in your size," he said as he handed Rude several shirts and pants, "I hope they'll do."

Rude nodded his approval, then turned as he heard Reno come running up to the two of them.

"Guys, something bad just happened," he said anxiously.

"You flirted with a girl whose boyfriend was bigger then you?" Tseng said sarcastically, but some how thought it to be true.

"It wasn't that bad, but still pretty bad," Reno answered, not picking up on the sarcasm. "President Rufus is here!"

"What?" Tseng asked, not liking where this could possibly lead. As Reno explained what happened, Tseng began to realize just how much this situation compared to another hunt they had. A hunt that caused only trouble.

Well, as you may have guessed by now, I have taken a different direction with this story. Every now and then I will throw in a portion of what happens with the Turks and their search for Eric. I know Tseng died in the game, but I'll explain how he's alive in this story later. I had to change history a little, but what good is a Fanfic if you can't do that, huh?


	7. Cosmo Canyon Revelations

As usual, I don't own any of the characters in this story except Eric. I also do not own the song that is sung, "Mystic's Dream." If anyone has ever ssen the the Mysts of Avalon, then you should recognize it.

Darkness. Swirling, endless darkness. He stood at the brink of this abyss, its cold hands clutching at him, pulling at his very being. And as always it begged him for release. He resisted as best he could, but then a hand would come from the darkness, and grab him. The rest would form into a monster, terrible and strong. It would laugh at his struggling, his torment and efforts to escape. The laughter would echo in his ears, a terrible reminder of what lurked in his soul. Then he would begin his own transformation to match the dark creature's shape, his body molding into the foul thing itself. Then he'd wake up.

Vincent sat up in bed, a cold sweat on his forehead. He put his hand to his head and reassured himself, "It was only a dream, only a dream." But deep down, Vincent knew it was more then that. It was the truth, and that made it all the more frightening.

He didn't sleep the rest of the night, and as the sun came up, he went upstairs. The sound of shattering glass brought him running up the stairs of the hidden cellar up to the main house. He came out of the flight of stairs to see an inferno consuming the Shinra Mansion. The heat was intense, and as he went to the front of the house to get out, and trying to figure out how this happened, he heard shouting voices outside the building. He looked out one of the windows to see a large crowd outside, shouting and yelling at the burning mansion. Some had torches in their hands, while others had rifles and daggers. Then a man came to the front of the crowd, robbed in black, with a white collar around his neck. In his hands was a mallet and spike, and he looked at the mansion with eyes full of self-righteous fury. He turned to the crowd and shouted so that everyone could hear him, "For years, we knew that a monster inhabited this mansion. Now is the day that we cleanse our town!" and the crowd cheered again. Vincent maneuvered his way around the burning mansion's collapsing beams and walls towards the back of the house. He couldn't go out the front. Unknown to Vincent, the crowd had already put some men back there to. He was trapped.

"Eric! Eric! Wake up!"

Yuffie shook Eric out of sleep, and pulled him to a standing position.

"What, Yuffie? What?" Eric answered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Look over towards Nibelheim!"

Eric looked over in the direction of the small town, and saw a vast, black cloud rising up from it. "What is it?"

"Something's burning," she answered in stunned awe.

"Obviously," Eric said sarcastically. "I mean, what is burning?"

"Something big, judging by the size of the cloud of smoke."

"You don't think," Eric said, and let it hang there. Both had a place in mind, the biggest place in Nibelheim; the Shinra mansion. Eric started casting a spell.

"What are you doing?" Yuffie asked, looking at him cast.

"I'm going over there," Eric explained, "And I'll be able to move much faster if Haste is cast on me."

"Well, cast it on me too," Yuffie said, "I'm coming with you."

"Why?" Eric asked, as he completed casting Haste on both of them.

"Because Vincent's my friend too," she said simply, and ran off. Eric followed, and hoped Vincent was alright.

Trees and bushes sped by as the two raced towards Nibelheim. As they got closer, they saw their worst fear was true. The Shinra mansion was ablaze! A large mob in front was screaming of vampires, and kept throwing new torches into the fire.

"There!" Yuffie said to Eric, pointing to a window. They could see Vincent inside. No smoke came from the window, so it looked like the fire had not spread there yet.

"We need to get this crowd away, or Vincent can't escape," Eric said quickly to Yuffie.

"Right," Yuffie nodded, but then asked with slight panic, "But how?"

Eric's mind, still enhanced by Haste, thought quickly. "I've got it!" he proclaimed excitedly. "Yuffie, are you good at hiding yourself?"

"Hello," she answered exasperatedly, "What part of Great Ninja Yuffie don't you get?"

"Good, then hide yourself around the mansion, and wait until I give you the signal. Then start screaming the word 'souls' as loudly and as eerily as you can," Eric said as he ran to the front of the crowd.

"Wait! What are you going to do?" she called after him.

"You'll see, just start screaming the word when I say 'vampire'."

"Alright," Yuffie agreed unsurely, but climbed to the top of a tree and hid herself amongst the foliage.

Eric continued to the front of the crowd, and saw that he didn't have much time left. He just hoped his plan worked. He pushed to the front, and started to yell at the man dressed in black, "What are you doing?"

"We are purifying the village of the menace of the vampire," he called back, as if it were an everyday event.

"You, idiot," Eric shouted, his face contorting with anger and fear, "Don't you know what happens when you burn a vampire?"

Right on cue, Yuffie began screaming the word 'souls'. It sounded better then Eric had hoped, and if he hadn't been in on this plan, he would have believed it. However, the villagers weren't in on the plan, so the sound caused some to fall to ground in fear, while others bolted and ran. The bravest stepped forward, looking at Eric with bewilderment. "What's happening?" they cried.

"When a vampire is burned, its spirit rises with the smoke and it forms into a foul demon. The demon will then try to poison those around the smoke with its spirit, causing them to become vampires as well!" Eric explained, hoping the villagers would believe him. Some more of the mob ran off, and Eric shouted to the rest, "Go! Go protect your families! I'll try to stop this foul thing!"

He turned back to see that fire had spread to the room Vincent was in. He didn't have much time. As quickly as he could, he cast Barrier, hoping the villagers would see it and believe him. The smoke began to contort as the barrier trapped some of the smoke. Yuffie caught on, and began howling madly. The villagers all ran off, each spreading out, and Eric noticed some coming from the back of the mansion as well. Eric began to speak an 'incantation', which was actually a message to Vincent.

"Thevillagers aregone comeoutthe windownow!" He said loudly, and blended the words together, so that it would sound like gibberish to anyone who wasn't really paying attention. Vincent must have got it though, because he quickly opened the window and jumped to the ground below, just as the roof above the room he was in collapsed. He stood up, and Yuffie stopped screaming as she climbed out of the tree and walked over to their friend.

"Eric? What are you doing here?" Vincent asked, relieved he survived, but surprised. He thought Eric had left. He got an even bigger surprise when he saw who was with him.

"Yuffie! What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Vincent," Yuffie responded.

"I don't want to interrupt," Eric said, "But in case you haven't noticed, Vincent's not exactly welcome in this town any more. Might I suggest we get to a safer place?"

"You're right," Vincent agreed, and then started towards the back of the still burning mansion. They made their way behind the houses, and passed quietly from Nibelheim. They broke into a run when they left, and didn't stop running until Nibelheim was just a dark silhouette in the distance. They traveled on without a word between them, until Eric couldn't stand it anymore.

"What was that all about?" Eric demanded suddenly, causing both Yuffie and Vincent to halt. "Vincent, why were they trying to kill you?"

Vincent exchanged glances with Yuffie quickly then sighed heavily. It was time for the truth.

"Well, I guess you do deserve to know," Vincent said quietly. He sat down on a stone that was in the middle of the tall grass. Eric and Yuffie did likewise. Vincent looked to the two of them and began.

"I used to be in the Turks when I was younger," he began. Eric's eyes grew wider, but he remained silent. "While there, I met a woman, Lucrecia. She was an assistant to Hojo, and had worked in Shinra for a while. When I met her, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever met, and I fell in love with her. Her feelings for me were the same, and we spent time together. She told me though that she was married to Hojo."

"Hojo!" Eric interrupted.

"Yes," Vincent continued, "So our love would never be complete. After that, we saw less of each other, and though we still spoke, I just couldn't feel comfortable around her anymore. One day she came to me and told me that she was offering herself up for one of Hojo's experiments. I tried to talk her out if, but she said that she had to. I told her that I loved her, and she told me likewise. Then she left, and that was the last time I saw her alive. I was approached by Hojo, and was used in the same experiment, which I obviously survived. The experiment caused something to awaken within me, my dark half."

Your dark half?" Eric asked, not sure what he meant.

"The evil side that is in everyone. The experiment gave that half a life of its own, and I can transform, when the need arises, to match that darkness, something similar to your own transformation, Eric."

"But that makes no sense," Eric pointed out. "Hojo came to me and asked. I was never a part of any of his experiments. I escaped before I reached the lab."

"You mean he can change too," Yuffie said, hooking a thumb towards Eric.

"Indeed," Vincent answered, "I saw him do it myself."

"Well, if Hojo never experimented on you, maybe you were just born that way."

"Perhaps," Vincent agreed, nodding in thought.

"What's wrong, Vincent," Eric asked.

"It's nothing," he said, "Besides, we have more important things to discuss. Why were you in Nibelheim?"

"We saw the smoke from all the way out here, so we came to see what was wrong," Yuffie explained.

"Well, you saved my life," Vincent said, looking at them in appreciation.

"Well, I owed you," Eric said, "Though it's not like I wouldn't have helped anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"You saved me from Hojo when you killed him," Eric explained.

"I killed Hojo!" Yuffie jumped in. Eric just looked at her, his face filled with sarcastic disbelief. "Well I did," Yuffie said sheepishly.

"Which reminds me," Vincent said, bringing the two out of their dispute, "Yuffie, what are you doing here? I thought you were on the Highwind with Cid and the crew, looking for materia. Yuffie chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of her head.

"Well, I kinda got thrown off the Highwind."

"What," Vincent said in surprise.

"Well, I was in the engine room, counting my materia, when the ship hit a huge gale. It started rocking the ship, and my materia went all over the floor. I went to get them and slipped on one. When I slipped, I fell against a crewman, who knocked into the engine heat monitor. The monitor increased the temperature of the engine, causing it to overheat. It burned out, and Cid had to make an emergency landing. Long story short, he got mad, cussed me out and told me to never come near his ship again. So, I've been wandering around, trying to find materia."

"More like steal materia," Eric said.

"Yuffie, you went back to stealing materia?" Vincent asked.

"Can you think of any other way to get powerful materia?"

"Find it and strengthen it yourself," Eric said, his face showing his annoyance.

"Whatever," Yuffie said haughtily, brushing him off.

"Listen, you two," Vincent interrupted again, "I am not going to play babysitter for you two. I have no where to go right now, and as far as I see it, neither do you two, so I suggest that while we are together, we keep this bickering to a minimum."

"Alright," Yuffie and Eric agreed at the same time. They looked at each other, their faces both showing a childish glares. Eric was glad Vincent was back, but couldn't quite figure out what could have possessed him to allow this girl to join him. Yuffie was happy to see Vincent again, but wasn't sure if this kid's materia was worth all of this. Regardless, she thought, I will get his materia. Materia was always worth it.

They spent the night on that hill, and as the sun rose, Vincent looked out over the horizon. The land stretched out before him and his friends, a wide length of green. Where they were heading, only Eric knew. It was his journey that Yuffie and Vincent had joined, so they had no real say in the matter. As they ate breakfast, they discussed that very situation.

"Cosmo Canyon," Eric said in between bites of sausage. He had wanted to go there recently. He had heard of a wise man named Bugenhagen, and wanted to ask him about his strange transformation.

"Very well," Vincent answered, and Yuffie just nodded in agreement. They had their own questions for the old sage as well. Besides, it had been a while since they had seen their friend Red XIII. They hoped he was well.

"Cosmo Canyon is about a day's journey from here," Yuffie said as she finished her meal, "We should get there at sundown if we hurry."

"Alright," Eric said. At least she knows her way around, Eric thought.

The weather in the morning was clear as they traveled, but it started to rain in the afternoon. It was a cold ran, and made for miserable going. They didn't stop for lunch, so by the time they reached Cosmo Canyon, they were all in foul moods.

"I'm sorry, we just can't let you in," the man at the gate apologized.

"Why not?" Yuffie asked in a whiney voice. She was cold, wet and hungry, and she was no mood for bad news.

"But we know Red XIII, I mean, Nanaki. Can't you let us in, please."

"I'm sorry, but Cosmo Canyon is closed to all visitors. There is nothing I can-"

"Fredrick, what's going on here?" A familiar voice asked. They all turned to see a large cat approaching. It was as large as a panther, but its fur was a dark red color. It had a small roman numeral thirteen tattooed onto its back leg. Its body was sleek and muscular, it fur was shiny and healthy. Eric had never seen a creature like it. The rain had caused its mane to wilt down flat, but it still didn't take away from the majestic look of the cat. Eric stood in awe, staring at the beast, until it spoke to the guard. Then Eric found himself on his rear.

"Frederick, these people are allowed in at any time, regardless-" then stopped when he saw Eric fall.

"Oh, right," Yuffie said apologetically, "We forgot to mention that Red XIII was a talking cat."

Red XIII ignored the comment about being a cat, then asked the three to follow him to his home.

They entered a door that was carved into part of the canyon wall. Inside was a staircase that led up to a plateau. On the plateau was a small house and observatory. Red XIII led the three in through the door to the house, and into a small living room. There were only two chairs, and a fireplace, where a small fire glowed brightly.

"Would you care for something to eat?" he offered.

He heard the rumblings of their stomachs and smiled, at least, Eric thought he smiled, and then said, "I'll be right back."

"I'll help," Vincent offered, then followed him into the kitchen. Yuffie and Eric sat on the floor in front of the fireplace, gazing into the flames. Their clothes were still wet from the rain, but the had already started to dry.

"You didn't tell me you were friends with-"

"With Red XIII," Yuffie interrupted, her tone making an implication. Eric caught the implication quickly. Yuffie and Vincent saw Red XIII as a person, not an animal. Eric felt kinda bad for even letting it cross his mind.

"Don't worry," Yuffie said, casually, "I understand your surprise."

"Thanks," Eric replied.

At that moment, Vincent came back into the room with a tray of tea and fruit. As they ate, Red XIII asked, "So, to what do I owe this visit?"

"Well, we had hoped to speak with Bugenhagen," Vincent explained, then stopped when his saw Red XIII's face fall. "I'm sorry, Red XIII, I didn't realize-"

"It's alright, you couldn't have known. Grandfather died about three month's ago. Things just haven't been the same since. I've been taking care of his house, you know, to help preserve his memory."

"I understand," Vincent replied. Eric noticed Vincent's hand got to just below his neck.

"Anyway," Red XIII said suddenly, "Perhaps I could help you?"

"Well," Yuffie began, "It turns out that our friend Eric here has, well he and Vincent are alike." She whispered to their wise friend, "They both have issues."

"I don't have issues!" Eric declared indignantly.

"Yes you do!"

"No I don't!"

"Enough," Vincent said. He didn't say it loudly, but it had enough authority behind it to stop both the bickering teens.

"I'm sorry," Red XIII chuckled, "But I have no knowledge on such things." His face suddenly grew serious, "It is a shame, though. Yet again, Shinra has ruined the life of another innocent."

"That's just it," Vincent explained, "Eric was never experimented on. He only lived with them for several years."

"That is strange," Red XIII said thoughtfully. He looked into the fire, and thought. They all sat silently, listening as the rain slowly tapered off. Yuffie turned and looked out the window to see the clouds parting, revealing the sunset. The beautiful sunlight shone off the red stone of the canyon, then mingled with the purple color of the sky. The sight was beautiful, and Yuffie stepped outside to enjoy it. She sat down on the edge of the plateau, her legs dangling over the edge, and watched the stunning display. She didn't see sunsets like this in Wutai. She was glad she had joined with Eric. She had forgotten how wonderful the world was, with or without its materia. Well, with its materia. She watched the sun go down, and went inside. What she found was more then a little strange. Eric was in the corner, hunched over something, trembling slightly. Yuffie asked Vincent what she had missed. He explained that had decided to go see Reeve, otherwise known as Cait Sith, in Gold Saucer. He was the only one they could think of that could access Shinra files.

"That doesn't explain what Eric's doing in the corner."

"I gave him the Gold Pass," Red XIII explained, looking at the young man, still huddled in the corner.

"He's never been before, and has been wanting to go for a long time," Vincent added.

"Oh," Yuffie sighed. Sometimes boys were so weird, and yet, kinda cute. Ew, Yuffie thought, I can't believe I even thought that. Eric, cute? No way! But Yuffie couldn't help looking back at the kid before getting ready for bed.

Eric tossed and turned in his sleeping bag. He and the others lay on the floor in the small living room, and every else was asleep, each in their sleeping bags and Red XIII curled up in front of the fireplace. Eric's mind kept wandering, thinking about how he had gotten to this point, and the three friends he had already made, more then he had ever had before. He just hoped that his appearance in their lives wouldn't affect them negatively. He would hate to see any of them get hurt, or worse.

Eric suddenly felt the room get stuffy, so he decided to step outside for some fresh air. The night was cool, with a small breeze in the air. He looked up into the sky, and lost his breath. In the sky were thousands of stars. They were spread everywhere, like someone had taken a handful of crystals and spread them over a black sheet. He gazed at them in awe, and sat down on the edge of the plateau, in the same place Yuffie had earlier, in fact, staring at the sight in wonder. He was so engrossed in the view, that he didn't hear someone's feet approach him from behind, four to be precise.

"It certainly is something," Red XIII commented quietly, causing Eric to jump slightly. He turned to see the cat approach and lay down next to him, his head resting on his front paws. "You know," he continued, "I was born and raised here, and I never grow weary of this sight."

"It's wonderful," Eric answered quietly, "I've never seen the sky so full of stars."

They remained silent for a while, looking up. Suddenly, and without quite realizing it, Eric began humming.

"What is that you're humming?" Red XIII asked. It sounded old, like some song of an ancient tribe.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Eric responded, "It's just a song my mother would sing to me before I went to sleep. She said that I should never forget it, that I should teach it to my children someday. For some reason, looking at the stars always reminds me of the song."

"It sounds nice," Red XIII commented, "Perhaps you could sing the words?"

"What?" Eric asked, his face filled with surprise.

"I'm sorry," the cat apologized, picking his head up off his paws, "I didn't mean to embarrass you. The song sounded familiar, so I wondered about the words."

"Oh, well alright," Eric consented, "But I can't sing all that well, so please don't laugh."

"I promise," Red XIII nodded, and placed his head back on his paws.

Eric began to sing, his voice quiet but still strong. It didn't sound terrible, and Red XIII felt himself drifting off when his ears heard the melodic yet haunting tune.

"Clouded dream on and earthly night,

hangs upon the crescent moon.

A voiceless song in an ageless light,

Sings at the coming dawn.

Birds in flight are calling there

Where the heart moves the stones;

It's there that my heart is calling

All for the love of you.

A Painting hangs on an ivy wall

Nestled in an emerald moss.

The eyes declare a truce of trust

And then it draws me far away.

Deep in the desert twilight

Sand melts in the pools of the sky,

When darkness lays her crimson cloak

Your lamps will call me home.

And so it's there my homage due,

Clutched by the still of the night,

And now I feel you move;

Every breath is full.

So it's there my homage's due,

Clutched by the still of the night.

Even the distance feels so near,

All for the love of you."

As Eric finished the last note, he looked down at his listener and realized, to his embarrassment, that he started petting Red XIII behind his ears. He pulled his hand away quickly, blood rushing to his face. Red XIII didn't stir, and for that, Eric was glad. He looked at the creature for a moment, then realized why Vincent and Yuffie saw him the way they did. He had a mind, a great, intellectual mind, and was probably far wiser then most humans. He carried himself with dignity and pride, and Eric felt terrible for disgracing the strong and majestic creature by making assumptions based on his appearance. Just a moment ago, Eric had been treating him like an animal, instead of a thinking being, by petting him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and then stood up to leave. Red XIII opened his eyes and sat up. He stretched and yawned, then followed Eric back to the house. When they reached the door, Eric looked at his new friend and smiled.

"Thanks for keeping me company," he said as he opened the door.

"You're welcome," Red XIII responded. But before he went in the door, he looked at Eric and said, "By the way, apology accepted and thank you."

"Thanks," Eric said, but had a curious look on his face, "But why do you thank me?"

"You managed to scratch that annoying itch behind my ear. I've been trying to get it all day."

He walked into the house before Eric could respond, and lay back down in his spot in front of the fireplace.  
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  
Well, another chapter uploaded. Sorry it took so long, but it has to be expected. The school has blocked FanFiction due to Adult/Mature content, and because school's almost out, the chapters are going to be put ontomy computer,so I won't be able to work on them as much(I was previously using an Alpha Smart).T.T I'm going to miss the little guy. BUt I have GIR here to keep me company, right buddy?  
GIR: I love pudding!  
Me: I'm in good hands.


	8. The Great Chocobo Chase

Sorry everyone, that this one took so long to be put up. I lost this chapter and I thought-  
Yuffie: Don't bore them with the details, just get on with _my_ story!  
Me: This is my story, and unless you want to find yourself forcefully removed-  
Yuffie: Oh, don't bother threatening me. You know you'd never take me out of the picture.  
Me: You're right. On with the fic!

The next morning, Vincent and company awoke to find a breakfast of ham and biscuits provided by the Cosmo Canyon When they had finished and were getting ready to leave, Red XIII padded through the door.

"Well, I suppose you'll be leaving now," he sighed sadly, "I'll miss you all."

"Same here, Fuzzy," Yuffie sighed, and patted his head lightly as she walked out the door. Red XIII growled slightly, but didn't respond anymore then that.

"I thank you for my time here, however brief it was," Eric added graciously.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it, and I hope you'll come back soon," Red XIII invited, "But until you do, I want you to have a small gift. Down at the gate of the canyon are three Chocobos. Use them to travel safely to Gold Saucer. Don't worry about returning them. They're able to find their own way back, so just release them when you get them."

Vincent sighed slightly at this good news. Chocobos were capable of traveling much faster then humans; they could cover a yard in a single stride when walking at a bisque pace, and even faster when running. However, monsters feared them, and this trip was not extremely urgent, so they probably would not need to push the yellow birds too much. "Thank you," Vincent said quietly, and the three proceeded outside to find that Yuffie was already waiting for them.

"Come on," she called, "let's get a move on, you slow pokes!"

"Shut up, Yuffie," Eric called back as he approached one the impatiently stamping birds. He slowly reached out his hand to its head, and it instantly nuzzled against it. As Eric rubbed its head, it gave out a small 'wark', and Eric chuckled slightly.

As Vincent walked to his own chocobo, he cracked a small smile. "You seem to have a new friend," he remarked mounted their own chocobos. Eric gave the bird another pat on the head before climbing on.

"I'll see you all later," Red XIII called after them as they started off.

The three rode in silence out of the canyon towards the rail that led up to Gold Saucer, with only the footsteps and the occasional 'wark' of their chocobo steeds making any sound. Suddenly, Eric stopped his chocobo and proclaimed loudly, "I'll call him Lord Cluck!"

"What?" both Vincent and Yuffie asked in unison.

"That's his name," Eric explained, "Lord Cluck." He accentuated his point rubbing the bird on its neck, "Right, Lord Cluck?"

"That's what you've been thinking about this whole time?" Yuffie asked, surprised at the sudden outburst.

"Yep," Eric answered

"That's the best you could come up with?" Vincent asked.

Eric looked hurt. He had thought hard about that name. Why would they tear it apart like that? Suddenly, Yuffie stepped in, surprising Eric this time.

"Well, I think it's a cute name," she said defensively. Eric smiled at her in gratitude, but she wasn't done, "Speaking of cute, you look pretty cute on **your** chocobo, Vincent," she giggled. Vincent only groaned, and then drove his chocobo on.

"We need to get moving," he said, the sound of annoyance touching his voice.

"You know, Vincent," Yuffie continued, ignoring Vincent's statement. , "Yellow really is your color. Maybe you should try wearing some; it might make you feel a little less grouchy." As she spoke, she drove her steed ahead of the other two, partially to avoid seeing Vincent's scowl, and partially to giggle quietly to herself for her cleverness.

"Yuffie," Eric warned, seeing the quite disturbing look that Vincent was giving the cheeky girl. If looks could kill, then Yuffie would have been six feet under already.

Suddenly, a rabbit shot out in front of Yuffie's chocobo from the brush near the side of the road. The chocobo became spooked by the sudden movement and jumped straight up into the air. Yuffie lost her footing in her holster, causing her free foot to become entangled in her reigns. Her other foot, still in the holster, became twisted around, causing her more then a little discomfort. When the chocobo had leapt into the air, she did likewise, and when she landed flat on her back, against the saddle of the steed, the panicked bird took off running, flapping its wings wildly, with Yuffie screaming for help as loud as she could. Eric and Vincent watched the whole spectacle, Vincent smiling wickedly at how justice had been served, and Eric laughing uncontrollably.

"Should I go get her?" Eric asked as he finally caught his breath. He realized that the chocobo probably wouldn't stop any time soon, and then they'd have to look for her, which would take even more time. He spurred his own chocobo on after her, while Vincent decided to follow after slowly. It was her own fault she was in this predicament; let her get out of it herself.

Yuffie had stopped screaming by know, but had not been able to pull herself up. With the way her feet were tangled, she couldn't move them at all, and the only thing keeping her on the back of the terrified bird was that she was still holding onto the reigns. Fortunately, she managed to lift her head up to see where she was headed. Unfortunately, she saw that the chocobo was head straight for a steep cliff at the end of the meadow that ran down to the ocean, as well as some very sharp rocks.

"Yuffie!" she heard Eric call, "Hold on!"

"Eric, I'm stuck!" she called back, her voice filled with panic. What if Eric didn't reach her in time? No, she wouldn't let herself think like that. She had to try and save herself. Yuffie looked down at the foot twisted in the holster. She pushed her foot as far in as possible, wincing in pain from the twisted ankle, then set the shoe against the holster, then pulled it out. The shoe got caught against the holster, and Yuffie was able to slip her foot out of the shoe, letting it roll onto the ground. She brought her foot up beside the one caught in the reigns and tried to use it to slip her other shoe off. No good, she thought, when she was unable to push it off. By this time, Eric had caught up. He grabbed at the reigns, but missed, his hand simply running over the reigns. Yuffie's foot had pulled it tight against the bird's neck when it had become entangled, and Eric was unable to get his fingers around it.

"Yuffie!" Eric called, his voice increasing in panic as the ledge quickly came closer. "Let go of the reigns! That should loosen it up!"

"I can't! I'll fall," she called back, and Eric saw that she was right. If she let go, she would slip down, her leg still entangled, but her head would end up on the ground. If she didn't have her face mutilated by the talons of the bird, she would suffer a concussion from having her head banged against the ground every time the chocobo took another stride. It seemed helpless, but neither Eric or Yuffie was willing to give up.

"Yuffie, I need you to let go of the reigns! If you don't, I can't reign the chocobo in! I'll work as quickly as I can, but please try to keep yourself up! Try to keep your head off the ground!"

Yuffie nodded, tears of fear forming in her eyes. She looked at Eric for a second, then she closed her eyes and let go, crossing her arms over her chest. She focused all her strength in keeping herself upright, knowing what would happen if she didn't. As soon as she let go, Eric grabbed the reigns, which had immediately loosened. He wrapped his fingers around the reigns, while he pulled the reigns of his own chocobo, letting the force of his stop halt the panicked bird. It came to a stop, and Eric immediately jumped off his mount to help Yuffie off of hers. He helped her stand, holding her shoulders steady so she could regain her composure, but before he could even react, she put her arms around him and hugged him close. Eric stood there, his eyes wide with shock. He heard her sob quietly into his chest, and when she looked up, he saw her eyes were red with tears.

"Thank you, so much," she sobbed, whipping the tears from her eyes. "I honestly thought I was going to die back there."

"No problem," Eric replied quietly, "I sure you would have done the same thing for me. At least, I think you would have."

"Of course," she said with a stunned look on her face, "I wouldn't have thought twice about it," and then gave him another hug. They stood there for a minute, silently contemplating what had happened and how close the two of them had come to losing their lives. Yuffie let go, and turned back to her chocobo to meet up again with Vincent, but not before giving Eric a quick peck on the cheek. As she adjusted her saddle and holsters, she smiled to herself. That was a nice thing Eric had done for her; so nice that she almost felt bad for slipping several materia of his belt when she had hugged him the second time. Almost, but not quite.

When they met up with Vincent, they explained what had happened, and Vincent seemed earnestly concerned for Yuffie, even though Eric thought he heard Vincent say under his breath, "Serves her right."

Later that evening, the three set up camp near a small stream. Branches and such had washed up from the stream, and after being properly dried, it made excellent firewood. The three now sat around this fire, talking about the day's events. In nearby, the sounds grazing chocobos were heard.

"I'm going go check on them," Eric said as he stood up and stretched. He walked off, leaving Yuffie and Vincent in silence. Vincent laid back against a stone and closed his eyes. As soon as he did, he heard Yuffie start talking to herself quietly.

"Now let's se what we got here," he heard her say, "Ooh, a Haste and a Full Cure, how nice."

Vincent opened his eyes, sat up and looked directly at her. "Yuffie, what are you doing?"

"N-nothing," she answered, startled.

"Really," Vincent answered, standing up, "Where did you come by those materia?"

"I found them," she replied somewhat defiantly, as she too stood up.

"You found mastered materia here in the middle of no where? That was pretty lucky," Vincent pointed out sarcastically.

"Yeah, it was."

"Try telling the truth," was all that Vincent said. "I know where you got them, thought I'm not going to make you give them back." Vincent was starting to sound like a parent again.

"You're not," Yuffie asked, somewhat surprised.

"No," Vincent said firmly, "I will just say this. Remember who saved your life," and with that, he laid back down and closed his eyes. He knew Yuffie could be greedy, but not that greedy. She would give them back, eventually. He heard her sigh loudly, then heard footsteps approach.

"Wow, Vincent's already asleep," he heard Eric comment.

"Yeah, he is," Yuffie said quietly.

"Well, the chocobos are all tied down for the night. Guess I'll hit the hay as well."

"Wait, Eric," Vincent heard Yuffie say suddenly. He opened one eye, and saw her approach the young man. "You dropped these," she said quietly, holding out the materia and not even looking Eric in the face.

"Thanks, Yuffie! Thank you so much. I can't believe I dropped these. I would have been devastated if you hadn't found these. Thank you so much!' Eric face was filled with joy, and Yuffie seemed to be pretty happy as well, though Vincent could see in her eyes she regretted handing the materia over. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep. And as he slept, he couldn't help but smile slightly.


	9. Gold Saucer At Last

Sorry this took so long. I have the next one almost set up too, so hope you enjoy them.

* * *

Traveling for the next morning was great, with bright skies and warm air. Vincent explained that they were getting closer to Gold Saucer and the desert that surrounded it, and with a wind coming from the southeast; the hot desert air would make the temperatures warmer. Eric looked into the blue sky, his eyes distant, yet happy. Yuffie watched him, how his eyes were so peaceful, so carefree. She brought her chocobo up next to his then tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Eric jumped slightly, and then looked to her with that same content smile.

"Eric," she started, "what are you doing?"

"Just thinking," Eric replied, "See, when I was young, I read a lot of adventure stories. You know, about traveling to save the world kind of stuff. Well, I always wanted to travel. Not for any reason, just because, with no real destinations in mind."

"That's nice," Yuffie answered. "And I know what you mean, there's nothing like the open road."

Vincent rode behind the pair, listening intently to their conversation. As he listened and watched the two, he noticed how much they reminded him of himself and Lucrecia. He recalled how he and Lucrecia didn't get along very well at first, and even though Vincent thought she was beautiful when he first met her, he saw her as a bratty daddy's girl. But as they spent more time together, Vincent found they had more in common then he thought. After that, they were inseparable, and many good memories were made.

Thinking of Lucrecia caused Vincent, without even thinking about it, to reach into his collar and pull out the thin chain that he wore around his neck. On this chain was a small locket, just a simple, silver oval with the engraving of a single rose. He clicked it open to reveal a small portrait of his love, Lucrecia. Vincent gazed at it for a moment, remembering when he and Lucrecia had given one another's portraits to each other.

It was the last time Vincent saw her alive. They had sworn to keep them forever, and to never forget one another. "How stupid I was," Vincent said quietly, thinking of the irony of it all. A single tear formed in his eye as he closed the locket and put it back under his collar.

"Hey, Vincent! Whatcha doin," he heard Yuffie call. Vincent looked up to see that he had inadvertently stopped his chocobo, and that Eric and Yuffie had gotten some distance on him.

"Vincent! You have to see this!" Yuffie called, her voiced filled with excitement. Vincent brought his chocobo to the top of the hill they were on, and looked down towards where Yuffie was pointing.

Below was the desert, or where the desert used to be. Now the large area was filled with tall buildings, golden in color, with bright lights and large windows. Tiny dots could be seen between the buildings, people moving around from one amazing sight to the next. In the center was the large tower and saucers that used to house Gold Saucer.

"Looks like they've upgraded," Vincent said quietly, his eyes losing there typical cool and growing large at the sight of the huge city. Eric, whose mouth was hanging open, just nodded his head. Yuffie couldn't take it any longer.

"Come on," she cried, "what are we standing around with our mouths open for; waiting for flies to choke us before we get there? Let's go already!" And with that, she drove her chocobo down the hill, with Eric and Vincent following behind.

As the three approached the edge of enormous amusement park, they saw a huge line to use the entrance gate. Yuffie stomped her foot in frustration.

"Well this is stupid," she said, pouting. "How are we supposed to get in?"

"I know," Eric answered sarcastically, "How dare they ask us to be patient and wait our turn."

"Why did you say it like that?" Yuffie asked angrily.

"Well, Captain Obvious, I said it that way because you asked a stupid question."

"No I didn't!"

"Yes, you did!"

"Quiet!" Vincent interjected forcefully. Yes, they were just like Lucrecia and himself. "Now look," he said slowly and quietly, "It appears we have no choice but to wait like everyone else. I don't want to hear another sound out of either of you towards each other until we get in, understand?"

Eric looked away from the group, his face slightly red from embarrassment, and Yuffie crossed her arms and huffed loudly. Vincent just shook his head, and couldn't help but smile slightly at how ridiculous the words coming out of his mouth sounded.

They ended up in line for an hour and a half getting through the entrance gate. When they got to the front and showed their Gold Pass, they walked through the gate, and saw a familiar sight. Waving to the entering guests was a large pink moogle. It had shiny black eyes and large arms and feet, with a small set of bat wings on its back. Yuffie ran up to it, with Vincent looking around for their friend that would most likely be nearby.

The three approached the large moogle, which was actually nothing more then an animated stuffed animal. It seemed to recognize them, because it looked at them for a moment, then it stopped moving completely. Suddenly, the moogle started talking with a familiar voice.

"Vincent! Yuffie! It's great to see you!"

"Reeve? Is that you?" Yuffie asked, somewhat surprised at the voice. As long as the two had known Reeve, or his alias, Cait Sith, they had never seen his moogle doll speak.

"I can see you're surprised," the moogle chuckled, though its eyes never changed their emotionless expression.

"Just a little," Yuffie answered, patting him on the head, "We've just never seen you talk through the moogle before."

"I know, I'm experimenting with a microphone that is directly wired from me to the doll."

"Whatever," Yuffie said, getting bored with the technical details.

"We need to talk with you," Vincent said, stepping forward.

"Ah, Vincent, don't you ever relax? You're all work, no play. Actually, I was hoping I would get to see you soon. I have a question of my own."

"Very well," Vincent nodded, "where shall we meet?"

"Well, I was hoping I could speak with just you," he replied quietly, hoping Yuffie, who had walked off with Eric and was getting something to drink, wouldn't hear.

"Easier said then done," Vincent answered, "You know how she is. Besides, there's another kid, Eric, that's with us too."

"Eric?" Reeve asked.

"I'll explain later, we just have to get them out of here first."

"Leave that to me," Reeve answered, his voice carrying a sly tone. Suddenly, the doll fell flat on its face, and a voice came over the intercom system.

"Would the holders of the winning golden pass, numbered 6082431, please report to the receptionist building to claim your all-expenses paid Golden Park Time passes. The holders of golden pass 6082431 please claim your prize of two Golden Park Time passes. Their values will be explained when you pick them up. Thank you, and have a golden day at Gold Saucer."

Vincent looked in the direction of Yuffie, who wasn't even looking to see if she had won. Eric tapped her on the shoulder, and she looked up, then Vincent saw Eric take the gold pass, look at it, then watched as both him and Yuffie ran off towards the front. He couldn't believe it, but Reeve had done it. He turned back to the moogle doll, which stood up again.

"Just follow the doll," Reeve explained, "It'll take you right to me. I can't talk anymore, I have customers," and with that, the doll was once again fell silent, and started walking down the busy street. Vincent followed quietly.

"These passes give you unlimited rides on any ride here in Gold Saucer, as well as half price on all games. You can go to one free show a day, and stay in the hotel of your choice. All food is free and you are able to skip right to the front of any line for a ride, provided you are of the right height."

As the woman behind the receptionist counter explained the value of their passes, Eric and Yuffie just stared in disbelief at each other. Theycouldn't believe their luck. As the two left the reception area with their new passes, a thought struck Eric.

"What about Vincent?"

"What about him," Yuffie echoed.

"Well, there's only two passes," Eric pointed out, "What's he going to do?"

"Does it matter? If he was here, he'd probably act like a martyr and depress us all."

"Well, where is he?"

"Probably went to see Reeve, so they can talk about boring tech stuff."

The two walked into the ride area of the park, looking at all the amazing rides, trying to figure out what to go on first.

"Let's ride that one!" Yuffie pointed, indicating a huge roller coaster. Eric, who had a fear of heights, looked around for something else.

"How about that one," he said, pointing to the Moogle Train, a slow moving train ride.

"You have to be kidding," Yuffie said haughtily, as if it was beneath her.

"Well, kinda," Eric answered sheepishly, not wanting to let Yuffie know his fear. Heaven only knew how she would treat him if she found out.

"Good, then quit fooling around and let's go!" And with that, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him to the ride. They got to the front of line with their passes, and as Yuffie and Eric were strapped in, Eric tried his best to comfort himself.

"It's just a ride, it's just a ride, it's just a ride," he chanted to himself over and over, hoping his heart wouldn't tear out of his chest from pounding so hard. He braced himself against the seat as the cart went up, and Yuffie glanced over.

"You're not scared are you," she asked, nudging him. Eric turned to her and started to open his mouth, but the sudden drop of the hill kept the words from coming out. The ground rushed towards them, and the next thing Eric knew, he was lying on the ground and Yuffie was slapping his face. Really, really hard.

"Come on, Eric, snap out of it!"

"Yuffie! Cut it out! I'm up, I'm up!" He sat up, his cheek red and stinging from when Yuffie was hitting him. He glared at her. "Could you hit any harder?"

"Well, yeah," Yuffie said, rolling her eyes, "but I didn't want to hurt you."

"I could tell," Eric answered, rubbing his sore cheek.

"Don't be such a wimp," she responded, helping him to his feet. "You need to toughen up."

"I'm fine."

"You only fight with material," she explained, "That's wimpy."

"No it's not," Eric mumbled, starting to walk away.

"Ah, come on, don't take it so hard. I'm just trying to help."

"How?" Eric asked, turning back to her.

"Life is tough," Yuffie explained, "So you need to get tough too."

"Well, 'Doctor Yuffie', what do you suggest?"

Yuffie thought for a moment, then a smile spread across her face and she snapped her fingers in triumph. "I've got it. We'll go to the Arena!"

"What!" Eric said, startled by her idea.

"Yeah, we'll sign up for a team match, with no materia allowed."

"WHAT!" Eric shouted, drawing people's attention. "I can't fight without materia! Are you nuts?"

But Yuffie wasn't listening; she was too busy looking at a map of the park. "It says here that the actual arena doesn't open until after dark, but they have a training center that's perfect for beginning and advanced fighter's alike."

"Yuffie, are you listening?" Eric asked, crossing his arms. She looked at him, and Eric spoke slowly, "I-can't-fight!"

"You can with some training," she replied, grabbing his arm again. They started walking towards the center spire of the park. "We'll also need to see what type of weapon to get you."

Eric just shook his head as he followed along quietly. He knew arguing was pointless, and that Yuffie probably would ignore him anyway.

* * *

I know there has been alot of talking, but I promise that it will get better, with more action. Trust me. 


	10. Memory Lane Is A Cruel Place

Wow, it's been a while since I've updated this. Well, I hope you like it.

_This chapter is dedicated to my lovely Victoria.May our love be not as ill-fated as Vincent's and Lucrecia's._

* * *

Vincent followed his stuffed guide through the streets of the amusement park to an area marked Theatre District, but when he had located his friend, he quickly found out that his meeting was not going to be short and sweet.

"Sorry, but I can't get away right now," the cat shrugged, "As you can see, this crowd won't be going anywhere anytime soon."

"So you called me down here for nothing?"

"Not nothing," the cat said, rather annoyed at Vincent's rudeness, "I want to talk, I just didn't expect this group! Ow, stop pulling my tail!" he yelled to one particularly rude girl. "Just go have fun," he yelled through the crowd, "I'll give you a call on this PHS when I get the chance," and he tossed the small communicator to Vincent.

Vincent had half a mind to chuck it back at the cat, but held his anger and stalked off. He walked through the Theatre District for awhile, looking for something to do, but was unsuccessful. He was about to give up and head back to Cait Sith when he heard the sound of singing coming from an open door. The door led into a club called "The Golden Star," and had a sign below it offering a prize to the best singer in a singing contest. Vincent smiled slightly and thought out loud, "This should be good for a laugh."

The club was dim, with dark blues and greens decorating the walls. Small lights hung from the ceiling above the tables and sofas and the a small stage stood at the far end of the club. A singer was stepping off the stage as Vincent walked in, so the stage was currently empty.

Vincent approached the bar in the corner and ordered a Bloody Shiva, a personal favorite, then took his drink and sat down at one of the tables. As he lifted the glass to his lips, the curtains at the front of the room opened to reveal a beautiful young woman, who looked like she was in her twenties, probably around Vincent's age. The woman had a smooth, pale face, outlined by blonde hair. Her lavender, almond-shaped eyes were lined with a purple liner that matched her lipstick. Her nails were also painted a deep violet, and she wore a beautiful, black dress, and around her neck was a black ribbon that was tied into a bow. The bottom of her dress reached down to just above her ankles, where it was line with a black lace.

She stepped slowly to the microphone, her eyes glancing around, slightly nervous. Clearing her throat quietly, she nodded to the small band over to her left. As they struck up the tune, a haunting and melodic song, Vincent slowly realized that he knew the music. The notes drifted on the edge of his memory, as if it was a dream that had long since passed.

"The valley of green was so serene,

In the middle, ran a stream so blue….

A maiden fair, in despair, once had met her true love there and she told him…

She would say…

'Promise me, when you see, a white rose you'll think of me.

I love you so,

Never let go,

I will be your ghost of a rose….'"

Yes, Vincent could remember it all now. It had been one of their last times together. They had gone to a club in Midgar, not unlike this one, and had danced to this song. Lucrecia had declared it their song as she leaned her head against his chest.

"Her eyes believed in mysteries

She would lay amongst the leaves of amber

Her spirit wild, heart of a child, yet gentle still, and quiet and mild and he loved her…

When she would say…

'Promise me, when you see, a white rose you'll think of me,

I love you so,

Never let go,

I will be your ghost of a rose…'"

Vincent promised her that night that he would do as the song said, and that her face would always fill his thoughts whenever he would see a white rose. That was the same night he had first told her he loved her, the night they shared their first real kiss.

"When all was done, she turned to run

Dancing to the setting sun as he watched her

And ever more he thought he saw

A glimpse of her upon the moors forever

He'd hear her say…

'Promise me, when you see, a white rose you'll think of me

I love you so,

Never let go,

I will be your ghost of a rose…'"

On the final words of the song, Vincent felt a tear trickle down his cheek. Those last words brought back his final memories of his time with Lucrecia.

* * *

"Lucrecia," Vincent said quietly as he approached the young woman. She was writing in her journal in the executive gardens in the Shinra building, but when she saw him coming, she quickly shut it. Vincent noticed the action, but dismissed it, thinking it was because she didn't want him to see it. That was alright, though. He had a surprise for her, something that would make them both very happy.

"Yes, Vincent," she said quietly, looking up at him. Her face showed lines of worry, and Vincent was sad to see them, but continued on with what he had to say.

"I have something for you," he said shyly. From behind his back, he produced a bouquet of white roses. It had taken a great deal of money to buy them, a quarter of his last pay check actually, but he didn't care. For Lucrecia, it was worth it.

"Oh, Vincent," she cried happily, "They're lovely!"

"I hoped you would like them."

"Like them? I love them! Oh, Vincent, you're so sweet!"

"Well, it is our one year anniversary, and I felt that my promise from last night should be honored," Vincent explained, reminding her of their song last night. Lucrecia looked down at the flowers, and Vincent saw some tears trickle down her cheeks. She looked up and smiled, then burst into tears.

Vincent didn't understand, but went to her side and place his arm around her. She leaned against him, and Vincent felt her tears on his shoulder, and his heart hurt. It always pained him to see her cry, and she had been doing it a lot recently. But he was always there for her to lean on, a secure shoulder to cry on.

When the tears had finally quieted, he placed his finger under her chin and lifted her face. Their eyes met, and Vincent felt now would be the time to ask. Now would be the time to take control of his life, for the first time in a long time.

"Lucrecia," he said slowly, kneeling down in front of her, "I want to ask you something." He reached into the pocket of his blue uniform and pulled out a small, black velvet box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful silver ring. It was set with a sapphire, Lucrecia's birthstone, and ringed with tiny diamonds.

Lucrecia looked into his eyes, a smile on her lips but tears in her green eyes."Vincent," she said slowly, "I love you with every ounce of my heart and soul."

Vincent prepared himself for the one word that would lead to a life of loving bliss.

"But.." she said quietly, "But I cannot accept."

Vincent's heart stopped and his breath wouldn't come to him. He felt his stomach heave slightly, and a paralyzing chill ran through him. In one second, his entire world came crashing down.

"I'm sorry," she said, more tears welling up in her eyes, "But Hojo and I are already engaged. He proposed this morning."

Hojo. That filthy man. That monster that had haunted his and Lucrecia's steps for the whole year he had known his love. He had taken something from him that could never be replaced.

"We are to be wed in two days," the sad woman continued. "If I could, my love, I would call it off, but I cannot. The entire situation is too complicated for that."

Vincent just stared at her, his red eyes unblinking in stunned silence. She rose to her feet, taking his hands in her own. They both stood together, their heads bowed in sadness. Then Lucrecia reached into her own pocket and pulled out a small, silver locket on a silver chain. On the front was a single rose, and when she opened it, there was a portrait of herself inside.

"I thought that perhaps you would want this," she explained slowly, "I have the one you gave me." She stopped and wiped away a tear, "If we have these, we can be connected forever."

Vincent accepted the small gift, and placed it around his neck. Suddenly, they heard footsteps coming up the path behind them. They turned around to see Hojo coming towards them, his face burning a bright red underneath his thin glasses.

"Lucrecia, come away from him, we need to get back to the subjects!" he ordered loudly, and walked up to her. He roughly grabbed her arm and started to pull her away. Vincent followed behind them, and would have liked nothing more then to put a bullet into the back of Hojo's head, but kept his hand steady for Lucrecia's sake. When they reached the elevator, Hojo shoved Lucrecia inside and pressed the button to take her to the lab. Before the doors closed, he stepped between them and waited for them to close. Hojo turned his grey eyes on Vincent, glaring as hard as he could. Slowly, a nasty smirk spread across his thin lips and he leaned in close to Vincent.

"I win," was all he said, the stepped into the second elevator and shut the door. Vincent returned to his room that night and, doing something he hadn't done in years, he cried himself to sleep, his spirit completely overwhelmed with the pain he was experiencing.

Two days later, Vincent received word that Lucrecia had died, but that he was not allowed anywhere near the funeral. Despite this order, Vincent, grief completely consuming his judgement, slipped into the cemetery located in the far corner of Midgar. He watched the procession and where they laid his love to rest, and after the rest had left, he went to her to pay his own last respects. Laying on her grave a single, white rose, he knelt down and cried over it. As he did, he spoke the chorus from the song that they had made their own.

"Promise me..when you see" he whispered, his voice trembling from sorrow, "A white rose, you'll think of me. I love you so…" he forced the words out, his entire body trembling, "Never let go. I will be….your ghost of a rose." The last words came out as a strained whisper, half sung half cried. He was so caught in his sorrow that he didn't hear footsteps behind him or even realise that someone was standing above him until he felt a sharp pain on the back of his head and rolled over. As darkness covered his eyes, he was able to make out the sneering face of Hojo, the man who had and would take everything away from him.

* * *

Vincent rose from the table he was sitting at and walked quickly out the door. The sun was setting over Gold Saucer, and the cool desert air was settling in. He sat down on a bench, frustrated with himself. His emotions were running high, the guilt stinging him. Why couldn't he protect her? Why was he the one who had to bear this shame? Why couldn't he have a normal life like everyone else? "Why do I have to be denied happiness?" he asked quietly, gazing into the setting sun gleaming from in between the golden buildings.

A door clicked open in the alley behind him and he turned to see the woman from the stage step out. She closed the door behind her and started walking forward when she noticed Vincent standing just across from her.

"Oh," she said, surprised, "Good evening."

"Good evening," Vincent nodded in reply. She smiled and came forward.

"Excuse me," she said politely, "But perhaps you were in there." She motioned to the club then turned back to him, "Did you hear me sing?"

Vincent nodded, somewhat startled by her forwardness, but said nothing else.

"Did I sound nice?"

To this, Vincent didn't respond right away. He couldn't. How could he say that it sounded nice when it was so much more then that; when it symbolized the greatest thing he had ever experienced, true love.

"It sounded nice," Vincent answered simply, unemotionally, "I enjoyed it."

"Thank you," the woman sighed, "I feared that it didn't."

"No need to worry about that."

"Well, it was the first time I had ever performed in front of people, so I wasn't sure if my being nervous had affected my voice."

"You couldn't tell."

"Oh," the woman said softly. She looked at the cold man, realizing that he probably didn't want to talk, and started to walk away.

"You really do sing well," she heard him say quietly, and she smiled as she turned around again. As she walked back towards him, she looked him up and down. He was a very handsome man, with a smooth, pale face and beautiful hair. His form seemed frail, but his red eyes and the way he carried himself suggested a strength within, stronger then any she had seen. He actually reminded her of her old boyfriend, and that maybe why he seemed so familiar. Regardless, he didn't seem to her to be like the kind that would compliment often, so she appreciated the words of encouragement.

"So, what are doing here in Gold Saucer?" she asked as she sat down on the bench next to him. When she did, he stood up and leaned against a light pole. No problem, she thought to herself, I'll get him to like me.

"I'm here to see a friend," Vincent answered.

"Really?" she asked, hoping that didn't mean what she thought, "A female friend?"

"No," Vincent replied, and she sighed contently. Good, she thought to herself, he's still available. "I'm here for business reasons." Oh no, she thought again, he's a businessman, how boring.

"Well," the woman said, rising to her feet, and extended her hand, "I don't believe we've even been properly introduced. I am Kathleen Beshel."

"Vincent Valentine," Vincent answered, taking her hand gently in his. It was warm and smooth, like Lucrecia's were, and Vincent felt happy for a moment. His mind felt the happy nostalgia that is associated with good memories, but then lost it when she removed her hand slowly from his.

"Would you like a drink?" she asked politely.

"I've already had one, thank you," Vincent replied, but when he saw her eyes drop, he decided that it wouldn't hurt to get to know this woman. She seemed nice enough, and he would more or less never see her again.

"Actually," he said slowly, "A drink sounds very nice right now." Kathleen smiled and walked beside him back into the club. Perhaps there really is someone out there for me, she thought to herself. So far, things were off to a slow but nice start. This Vincent was nice, though a bit cold, but then again, she herself didn't give a very approachable appearance most of the time. Once I get to know him, she thought to herself as the two sat down a at table, he'll be much better. She could only hope that was true.

* * *

"Ooh, this one looks cool!" Yuffie exclaimed as she picked up a huge halberd. The thing was as tall as she was, with a sharp, swirling head and decorative ribbons on the head and below the blade. She could barely hold it up, and Eric rolled his eyes.

"Yuffie," he started to say, but she cut him off.

"I know, let's look at throwing weapons," and she ran to the weapons rental counter. As she spoke with the man, Eric just sighed and looked around. The two had discovered this store when they went around the arena. The whole way there, Eric had tried to convince Yuffie to stop with her crazy idea, but, as he had guessed, she just ignored him anyway. They had been in the store for an hour, and so far Yuffie had made him try out over ten different swords, three spears, four staffs and a mace, and absolutely none of them worked well for him, not to mention his arms were so sore and tired from slicing and parrying, he felt like they could fall off. He could only hope that they were out of weapons.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. A large red curtain hung in front of a doorway. The curtain was made of a thick velvet, on the curtain was embroidered all kinds of different symbols and images of battles. Brave knights and fearsome monsters shimmered in the light, and Eric thought that he could almost hear the sounds of battle. Eric knew that he really shouldn't, but his curiosity was too great, so he slipped behind the curtain, and into a dark room inside.

The room was lit only by candles, and they were spread out through the area, casting an eerie light on everything inside. All around the room were weapons, and very old ones at that. Throwing daggers, wands, javelins, slings, there was a large assortment, but still nothing that was particularly pleasing to Eric. He was about to leave when he saw something hanging on the wall.

At first, he wasn't sure it was even a weapon, considering its shape, but when he got a closer look, the blades stood out clearly. On the wall, above a lone candle were two rings. They were large, about the size of Eric's head, but were flat, with blades on the inside and out. He ran his fingers around the edge of one, making sure not to cut himself. The blades were still very sharp, and Eric wondered how a person could possibly use a weapon like that. He gently took them off the hooks on the wall, then saw a thin strand coming off of both the rings. He followed them to a small box in front of the candle, and when he opened it, the answer to his question was revealed. Inside the box was a pair of black gloves with the strands connected to the palm of the gloves. He slipped the gloves on, though they were way too big. There were straps on the end for him to tighten so the gloves would stay on, and after making them fit snuggly, he grabbed the weapons in both hands. The blades wouldn't cut through the gloves. No matter how tightly he grasped the rings, the blades wouldn't cut through the cloth of the gloves. Eric even felt brave enough to try and slice the glove while it was on his hand. No matter how hard he tried, the blade would not slice the flimsy fabric.

"Eric! Eric!" Yuffie's voice startled him.

"I'm in here," he called back, then turned back to the blades. Yuffie pushed aside the curtain and stepped inside.

"What are ya doin' here in the dark? You're not becoming like Vincent, are you?"

"No," Eric answered distantly, his eyes not leaving the rings, although someone saying he was like Vincent would have been a compliment anyway, "I was just looking at these." He showed Yuffie the rings and gloves.

"What's with the gloves?"

"I think they protect your hands from being cut," Eric explained, still not quite sure.

"Nah, the blades are just dull," Yuffie corrected, then took one of them. When she did, she yelped in pain and dropped the ring. It fell to the floor with a loud clatter, and when Eric picked it up, there was blood on the edge of it. On Yuffie's palm was a line of blood from where the blade had cut her.

"Yuffie," Eric cried, "You're bleeding!"

"I know, and now we're probably going to have buy the stupid rings, 'cause I got blood on 'em."

Suddenly, the curtain was thrown open and the store owner, a small and stocky man, stepped inside. He squinted as his eyes adjusted to the dim lights, then they widened when he saw the rings.

"What did you do to the chakrams?"

"The 'what-ams?" Eric asked, as he examined Yuffie's wound.

"Chakrams, the rings you bloodied up, are very rare and powerful. At least they were. They don't work anymore."

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, starting to become very interested.

"Well, way back when, some race, I think the Cetra or something like that, made them. The gloves are from woven mithril and the blades are mithril as well."

"Well, if it is made of mithril, then how is it any less powerful?"

"Well, there's a story that that says that the chakrams would return to the owner if thrown. They said that a mithril strand connected the glove to the chakram, but it would only return to a member of the race that created it. The strand was only visible to one of the race as well."

Eric's eyes widened when he remembered the strand he saw. What did this mean?

"So, how much for 'em?" Yuffie asked.

"Well, normally, I wouldn't sell it because of how old it is, but for you two, I'll take six thousand gil."

"What?" Yuffie shouted.

"Sorry, but that's the price," the clerk said resignedly.

Eric grabbed Yuffie's arm and pulled her to the side.

"Yuffie," the whispered, "There's something I need to tell you."

"I know," Yuffie whispered back, "That guy's a total rip-off artist."

"That's not it," Eric replied, frustrated, "I can see the strand."

"The what?"

"That strand he was talking about," Eric answered, his voice quivering with excitement and fear, "I can see it! It's tied around the rings right here," he pointed out. He then picked up the rings by the strand and held them in the air, but to Yuffie, it appeared as if they were floating by themselves.

"Oh my gosh!" Yuffie said loudly, "How are you doing that?"

"I'm not doing anything," Eric answered, "The strand is holding it."

"That's amazing," Yuffie answered, "But I don't know if I have enough cash."

"I think I have some left from when Vincent gave me gil."

"Well, I only have two thousand, and I'm giving that to you."

"Thanks a lot," Eric said sarcastically, then had an idea. It would mean a serious sacrifice, but it would be worth it to get these rings.

"Well, I don't have much gil," he admibted, "Only two thousand, but could you possibly take materia?"

"I suppose," the man rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "But only if it was worth the amount."

"Well, how about-"

"How about this," Yuffie said suddenly, thrusting a green materia into the man's hand, "An almost mastered Poison materia."

Eric stood shocked, amazed by what Yuffie had just done. What surprised him even more was that when the man took it and the rest of the money, Yuffie didn't jump on top of him trying to change her mind and take it back. As the two left the store and headed towards a practice area, Eric turned to his friend.

"Yuffie, I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything," she mumbled, her voice sounding sad and happy at the same time, "Otherwise, I might change my mind."

"Well, thanks," Eric replied.

"Oh, don't thank me," she said misceviously, "You owe me a Poison materia, you know."

* * *

Eric just smiled. It was good to have friends.

"No, No! You throw it like this! Not that way!" Yuffie said in frustration. She had been trying to get Eric to throw the chakram properly for half an hour, and had been unsuccessful in doing so.

"I'm sorry, Yuffie, but I did just start learning how to use these things today."

"I know," Yuffie said, her voice returning to normal, "Which is why you have to listen to me. Otherwise, you'll end up dying in the tournament, or worse."

"I thought you said these tournaments were perfectly safe."

"I may have stretched the truth a bit," Yuffie said sheepishly, "Okay, I lied. You can get hurt and die, but only sometimes."

"Thanks," Eric said sarcastically, "And what could be worse then that?"

"Well, you could end up losing to a lttle girl."

Eric sighed then looked back down at the weapons in his hands. They shimmered brightly, the blood having been cleaned off of them, and Eric was happy when he looked at them. The strand was still attatched, but Eric hadn't made use of it yet. He would surprise everyone when they came back to him, but until then, he had to go pick them up after they were thrown. At leas, that was what Yuffie had told him to do, and since he was tired of her getting angry at him, he didn't say anything. He went and picked up the blade, then turned to face his teacher. When he did, he saw three men approaching him and Yuffie from across the practice area. At the head of the group was a tall man, with straight black hair and brown eyes. Except for the eyes, Eric thought to himself, he looks kinda like Vincent. Behind him was a big man with a bald head and the other man was shorter with a head of short red hair.

"Hey, you," Yuffie called to the men, "We reserved this room!"

"Sorry," the man said, and Eric felt as if he had heard the voice before. The man looked at Eric with his cold eyes and said quietly, "Your time's up."

Faster then either Eric or Yuffie could react, the black-haired man pulled out a gun and pointed it right at Eric. "Don't move," the man growled, "Or I will pull this trigger."

"What are you doing?" Eric asked frantically.

"We've come for you," the man replied simply, "Did you honestly think you could run from Shinra forever?"

Shinra, the name of the one place on earth Eric wished he could forget. The one place that had brought so much trouble to him and his family. He had tried his best to run from that past, but it seemed that his past had finally caught up with him.

"Hey, boneheads!" Eric heard someone shout. All heads turned to Yuffie just as she through her shurikan. It flew straight towards the man with the gun, but he managed to jump back a fired at a shot at her. She dove to the left, but was met by the red-haired man.

"Yuffie, how nice to see you again," he said calmly, almost flirtatiously.

"Ew, is that you, Reno?"

"The one and only, and what do you mean by ew?"

Eric didn't have time to listen to the rest. Without even thinking about it, he flung the chakrams towards the leader. The blade spun towards him, and managed to cut slightly into his side as he rolled away. The man placed a black gloved-hand on the wound, then pulled out the gun again, though now, hhe pointed it at Yuffie. He smirked once at Eric, then aimed at the girl, who was dodging blows from Reno. He swung a long, metal rod at her, and she was barely able to dodge in time. Eric saw that she couldn't escape the man and the shot, and ran towards her. As he dove infront of her, he heard a shot, then felt his body being struck with something.

Instead of the pain he had expected, he felt a numbing sensation running through him. He fell to the ground and saw the world grow dark around him. He couldn't move any part of his body, and laid there helplessly until his eyes closed and sank him into a blank, paralyzed abyss.

Yuffie watched Eric take the hit, and ran to him, but was stopped by Rude, the huge bald man. He grabbed her by the hair and then tossed her into the wall of the area. Stars danced before her as she rose unsteadily to her feet.

"We had better get back quickly," she heard Tseng say before the three walked out of the arena. Rude had the unconscious Eric slung over his shoulder, and Reno smiled at her triumphantly before folling Tseng and Rude out of the room. She stumbled towards them, but her steps were slow, for she still felt dizzy from hitting the wall. She finally regained her senses enough to run after them, but they had disappeared.

"Come back here, you jerks!" she screamed. "I'll kill you if you hurt him!" The only answer she received was the sound of helicopter propellers. She ran out of the Battle Arena to see a helipad outside, meant for flying in the rich who had come to see the tournaments and competitors. The helicopter rose into the air, too high for Yuffie to jump, and took off north, back to Midgar.


	11. The Eyes of a Killer

Well, here is the next chapter. I kinda had a hard time writing this one, but I think you will enjoy it. Please Read and Review as much as you can.

* * *

Eric blinked his eyes open when he heard the sound of angry yelling. As he opened his eyes slowly, hoping the incident with the Turks was just a dream, he found that it wasn't. Instead, he found himself lying face down on cold, wet, ground. He felt panic rising within him as he realized that he couldn't move his arms or legs; he couldn't even feel them.

Suddenly, a foul smell wafted into his nostrils, the smell of rotting wood, grass and stagnant water. He brought his head slowly around, and saw behind him tall weeds and cattails. The smell seemed to get stronger as he looked at the weeds, and Eric realized that they were near a bog, and there was only one marsh he could think of; the Midgar marsh. The swampland was located near the Chocobo Ranch, and was a home for foul monsters and such, a place that was most certainly not safe to spend the night. Suddenly, he heard voices growing louder and turned back around and laid his head on the moist ground, hoping his captors would think him still unconscious.

"I'm telling you, Tseng, I checked it before we left," Reno said, almost pleadingly.

"Then how did we run out!" Tseng shouted back, his frustration apparent on his face.

"I don't know!"

"How can you not know? There's a meter that shows the gasoline levels! Any half-wit could tell we were running low! Do you realize what Velk will say! He'll be furious that we've taken as long as we have already!"

Despite how scared he felt, Eric couldn't help but look up at the two and smile slightly. Even now, when it seemed that his luck had finally run out, he still received a faint glimmer of hope. If Yuffie saw him as even the smallest bit of a friend, then perhaps she would tell Vincent, and the two would come looking for him. Unfortunately, they had absolutely no idea where he was, let alone where in the middle of this vast swampland he was. He sighed heavily as the weight of the situation came back down on him, perhaps too heavily.

"Oh, look," Reno snickered, "Sleeping Beauty's awake."

Eric just reamained quiet, looking stoically at the man, the way Vincent looked at people. It helped him feel a little more brave.

"Not a talker, huh?" Reno asked, walking over to him, "That's okay, You'll be begging for mercy soon enough."

"Mercy?" Eric spat, trying to sit up, but found that the feeling in his limbs was still gone, "What would a Turk know about mercy?"

"Enough to show you some," Reno shot back, hitting Eric sharply on the back of the head, "You shouldn't speak to your elders so rudely, kid."

"My name is not 'kid'!" Eric growled, "It's Eric Constantine!"

"Well, thank you, Eric Constantine," Tseng said quietly, "At least now we know we have the right kid."

Eric stopped, realizing the foolish mistake he had made.

Reno laughed quietly, "Nice one Tseng." His hand went up for a high-five, but a cold look from his leader caused him to drop his hand.

"What do you want with me?" Eric asked quietly.

"WE don't want anything," Tseng answered, walking next to Reno, "It's Velk that wants to see you, and your guess is as good as ours as to what he needs."

Eric shivered at the prospect of going back to Shinra, and even more so from the thought of seeing the Shinra lab again. He had only been in it once, and that was way before Hojo had tried to capture him. He had been on a general tour of the building when he was ten years old, as part of his Turk training. The cruel instruments and cold machines still scared him when he thought about them.

When Tseng and Reno had turned away and started back to the place they had come from, Eric shivered again, this time, not from the fear, but from the cold. His stomach was cold and wet from lying on the muddy ground, and goosebumps were spreading across his arms. This development was very uncomfortable, but showed that he at least had feeling again. Before he had time to appreciate this stroke of good fortune, he felt something coarse around his wrists and ankles. He jerked his head around as best he could to find his wrists tied together tightly with a thick cord of rope. His feet were also bound, and he struggled slightly to slip his hands free from the rough rope. It went on for several moments, and just as his wrists began to chaffe from moving against the coarse weave of the rope, a sudden rustling in the weeds behind him grabbed his attention. He jerked around but saw nothing, so decided to return his attention back to the rope, still keeping a watchful eye on the grass.

When he had gotten his thumb under the rope to use as leverage for the rest of his hands, he heard footsteps coming from his left. He relaxed his hands back into their tied position, hoping his captors wouldn't notice how loose they had become.

"Did you see anything out there, Rude?" Tseng asked the tall bald man.

"No," he answered simply.

"Good," Tseng nodded, "That's the last thing we need."

Eric, who, by this time, had grown very wet from lying on the soggy ground, cleared his throat politely. The two men looked at him, both glaring slightly, though Eric couldn't be too sure. Rude's eyes were covered by his sunglasses.

"I'm sorry," Eric said quietly, "But you could you please let me sit up? This ground is awful wet." Normally, Eric would have been too frighten to ask such a question, but he reasoned that they might be slightly willing to help because he had almost been a Turk. He knew he recognized Tseng from when he was there, though the man had been younger the last time Eric had seen him.

Tseng rolled his eyes, and Rude cracked his knuckles. Eric jumped, but Tseng just shook his head and motion for the large man to follow him. Rude grabbed Eric's ankles, and Tseng grabbed his wrists and the two flipped him over, then laid him back down, or more like, dropped him back down. Eric landed on his rear, and as the two walked back, brought himself up too a sitting position as best he could. It was uncormfortable, but at least he wasn't lying on the wet ground.

"Thank you," Eric mumbled to the men, and Tseng just rolled his eyes again.

"Just stay quiet," was all he said. Eric settled himself back in the grass and hoped that he would find a chance to run.

"Here," Tseng ordered, tossing a belt to Rude, "Start a fire."

"Hey!" Eric shouted, trying to stand, "Those are mine!" Rude was holding his belt of materia, the materia he had worked so hard to perfect.

"Not anymore," Tseng answered, and Eric fell into a pout. How dare they? They kidnap him, threaten him and then steal his materia! How much lower could they get?

"I wonder if Vincent was like this?" he mumbled to himself.

"Vincent?" Tseng asked, turning to Eric. His eyebrow was raised and a somewhat surprised look was on his face. "Vincent Valentine?"

Eric just nodded slightly, for he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not to let them know he was friends with Vincent. After a moment, he grew more confident, and decided to press it.

"You just wait," Eric continued, feeling slightly childish, "Until Vincent finds me. He'll save me, you just watch, and then you'll be sorry you ever messed with me."

"Are you really that naïve?" Tseng asked quietly, "To believe that he cares?"

"Of course he cares!" Eric replied, "He's saved my life before, twice actually!"

"And you don't think that you've become a burden to him?"

Eric stopped. Had he become a burden to Vincent? It was true that Vincent had agreed to help him in his journey, but after saving and helping him, had Vincent grown tired of him? Eric had disrupted the man's way of life, and had brought him out into the world he was obviously trying to avoid. No, Vincent wouldn't have stayed with him for so long if he saw Eric as anything but, at least, a companion.

"No, Vincent doesn't mind me," Eric shook his head, and Tseng just smiled slightly, a cold, knowing smile, as if to say that he knew something Eric didn't.

"Do you think Vincent is a simple man?"

"No," Eric answered, becoming nervous about where this was going, "He has his secrets, just like everyone else. His are just a bit more scary, that's all."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Don't you wonder why he keeps them so close?"

"Because he feels sorry for what happened."

"And what happened?"

Once again, Eric was at a loss. He didn't know that much about Vincent. All he really knew was about a woman, Hojo and something about another half of Vincent's personality; in short, almost nothing.

"You don't know a whole lot, do you?"

Eric just sat silently.

"I'm surprised," Tseng said, turning around to the small fire Rude had been starting during the conversation. "I would have figured that someone like you, who had been hiding from an entire organization for so long, would have tried to find out more about those you put your trust in."

"Vincent had saved my life," Eric said, his voice quivering, "That was all I needed to know. Anyone who saves a life must not be all bad."

Before Tseng could answer, a slight rustling in the bushes caught his attention. Suddenly, Reno came tumbling out. His clothes were torn and bloody, but he was still breathing. He looked as if he had been attacked by a wild animal, for there were claw marks all over him.

Rude rushed to the injured man and helped him to his feet.Tseng took his shoulder to help support him, then asked him what had happened, his cool voice sounding slightly panicked.

"Something….something out in the marsh," he panted through deep breathes, "I was attacked. I couldn't take it, and it almost killed me. It's coming this way. It's huge and.." but he slumped down before he could finish.

Rude and Tseng looked at each other, then turned again to the grass when they heard more movement. The area fell silent again, and even Eric held his breath. He was completely defensless to a monster, and he doubted that his captors would protect him.

The grass of the marsh exploded suddenly, and the air became filled with the sound of beating wings. A tall figure swooped down from the night sky and landed before the group. Eric gazed up at the most frightening figure he had ever seen.

Before him was a tall creature, its black skin seeming to absorb the warmth and light from the small fire. Long, black bat wings extended from its back, which were spread out wide. Its eyes, two, red portals of anger and hate, glowed menacingly, and just above them protruded a set of fierce looking horns. Its fanged mouth let out a roar, and before Eric could have time to move or even breath, the monster spread its wings and swooped down right at him. It flew down, grabbed him by the shoulder of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. The creature held him in the air for a moment, Eric too petrified with fear to even scream or struggle. It opened its free hand, and using one of its wicked claws, tore apart the rope holding Eric's wrists together.

Eric looked up at the creature, stunned. Why would it do something like that? Before he could contemplate the idea, a gunshot rang out. He turned to see Tseng aiming his gun at the monster. It dropped Eric on the ground, then landed in front of the young man. Eric, seeing his chance, untied the ropes binding his ankles, then lifted his eyes to see the creature dive for Tseng. Another shot went off, and the monster seemed to shake for a moment, as if it had takenn a hit, but then continued with even more ferocity. It brought its claws down on Tseng, whom it had pinned on the ground, but Rude caught the thing by its wrist and pulled back. The creature turned its gaze on the man, then lifted him off the ground by his throat. It roared again, then threw him towards Eric. The large man rolled across the ground and stopped in front of Eric, his glasses off and his eyes closed. Around his waist was Eric's belt.

When the monster turned back to Tseng, the man was gone, and it roared in frustration. Eric watched it as he unbuckled the belt from the unconscious man, and just as he had slipped it off, he saw something strange happen to the monster. A dark cloud had appeared around it.

The cloud swirled around its tall form, and Eric thought he saw its figure change. First, the wings melted away, and the mist seemed to change colors. Some of it became a blood red, while some took on a dull gold color. The red laid around the creature's shoulders like a cloak, and the gold wrapped around its left hand and feet. The rest of the black mist fell around his head, torso and legs, and formed into hair, a shirt and a pair of pants. The mist disappeared as Vincent turned around to face Eric. Eric wasn't sure whether to be afraid or happy, but really didn't get a chance to decide. He felt something pull hard on the belt in his hand, hard enough to lift him right off the ground. The belt was tugged out his grasp completely, but not without letting a single materia fall into Eric's hand. Eric looked at Vincent in fear as he felt the end of a gun press against his throat.

"Let him go," Vincent ordered quietly. His voice was calm, but his eyes showed a smuldering anger, the same anger Eric had seen in the eyes of the monster.

"I don't think I will," Tseng answered, his voice just as intense, "He's too important."

"Why?" Eric asked slowly.

"It is none of your concern," Tseng shot back. Vincent walked forward slowly, his steps long and strong.

"Stop right there," Tseng said dangerously, "Or this boy's life is forfeit."

"You won't harm him," Vincent answered, "He's too important, I thought."

"He's only important to Shinra, not to me," Tseng said, "I only have to claim that he was killed by another and I shall be exemporated."

Vincent didn't say or move, and instead stood very still, his eyes practically exploding with anger.

"And don't try to transform either," the man added, "I could kill him before you'd even have a chance." Vincent didn't move.

"Why do you care about the kid so much?" Tseng asked, almost tauntingly, "It doesn't seem very becoming for the legendary Vincent Valentine to show so much concern for a mere child."

"Child!" Eric asked angrily, but only had the barrel pushed harder against his neck as an answer. Vincent still did not respond.

"Hmm, no answer, eh?" Tseng continued, "Though I shouldn't be surprised, considering your history. In fact, I would expect you to recognize the brat." Vincent's face didn't change, but Eric though he saw a hint of confusion in the man's eyes.

"Of course, you never did see Eric," Tseng added, seeming to grow more confident, "Just his parents."

"My parents?" Eric said quietly, his eyes becoming empty.

"That's correct," Tseng said, "Vincent here could probably tell you the story better then I could, but I feel that he may change some elements, so I get the pleasure of telling you."

"It was about eleven years ago. Vincent and I had just finished our training to be Turks, and we had received our first assignment. I was to find the child of two Shinra employees, and Vincent was to remove the parents. You were that child, and Vincent's target was your parents. As you can see, the kill had affected him so much that he completely forgot about it."

Eric couldn't believe it. So many things rushed through his head at that moment, the Turks coming to get him, his escape, meeting Vincent, his adventure in the mountains. Everything that had happened swirled around. A huge weight of emotion dropped on him, and when he looked at Vincent, the man who he thought was a friend, he saw only the monster.

"Vincent," he whispered, "Tell me that's not true." A tear ran down his cheek, "Tell me it's a lie!"

Vincent didn't answer, but looked away instead. Of course it was the truth. He remembered it all very clearly, unfortunately.

"You mean it's true?" Eric said, stepping forward, not realizing that Tseng had let go. "My parents didn't die in an accident? They were murdered, and you pulled the trigger!"

"Indeed," Tseng pressed, "He did, and he enjoyed every moment of it."

"That's enough, Tseng." Vincent growled. He may have been resposible for their deaths, but never had he enjoyed killing anyone.

"I can't believe you!" Eric shouted, tears streaming down his face, "All this time! I trusted you! I trusted you!"

"I am sorry," Vincent said quietly, but Eric didn't hear him.

"Enough!" Eric shouted, his eyes burning ferociously. Suddenly, the materia in his hand glowed a bright red, and it burned brightly. Eric fell to his knees, a pained scream tearing from his lips. He clutched the sides of his head, and Vincent knew what was happening. The same thing had happened, in the mountains, and the results had been terrifying.

Tseng, not understanding, saw his chance to grab the young man and run, but as he reached out, a fiery shockwave went out from the anguished young man. It blew both Tseng and Vincent backwards, each skidding on the wet ground. Vincent watched in horror as Eric's entire body became consumed in a huge blaze. The ground around him began to dry up and crack from the heat, and sparks shot from him in every direction.

Suddenly, two, long black-feathered wings sprouted from his back, and flames ran up and down them, lining their entire edge. Eric rose to his feet, and the flames became less intense. Just like his wings, the rest of him had trasformed as well.

His long, dark hair had become a bright orange and red, and was tangled and wavy, and two short horns protruded from his forehead. His skin was a dark tan, and his eyes were a bright mixture of red and orange. His fingertips were clawed, and all around his torso, waist, legs and feet was an inferno.

The burning creature that had once been Eric looked at Vincent, his orange eyes full of bitterness and hate. His eyes narrowed at him, and Vincent thought he heard Eric's voice whisper in his mind, "I'll deal with you later," before he turned back to Tseng.

He gazed at Tseng with a judgemental look, and raised his hand, palm outward. "Burn in your sin," he said simply, and fired a huge ball of fire at the man. He dove out of the way, and the fire continued on to blast through the tall grasses around the clearing. Anything left in the wake of the flame was scorched to almost ashes, and Tseng looked back at the place he had stood, shuddering at what would have happened if he hadn't moved.

"Go," Eric growled through gritted fangs, and Tseng rushed to his men. By this time, they had started to awaken from all the commotion, and Tseng helped them to their feet; trying his best to keep their focus on escaping and not the burning being before them. "Leave the belt," Eric ordered, and Tseng dropped it on the ground without giving it a second thought. After the men had rushed through the grasses, Eric turned his gaze back on Vincent.

"How long did you intend to hide it from me?" Eric roared, circling around Vincent. Each step he took caused a footprint of flame to remain behind him.

"I assure you," Vincent answered quietly, hoping to calm him, "If I had known, I would have-"

"Would have what? Found a better way to keep it a secret? Finish the job! Is that why you saved my life from the dragon and from the rain? Because you wanted to kill me yourself!"

"Never," Vincent replied.

"Then why didn't you tell me?" Eric shouted, before unleashing a ball of flame at Vincent. The man dove to the side and rolled across the hard ground, jumping up to his feet again at the end of his roll.

"Eric, listen to me," he started, but was cut off again by another blast.

"No!" Eric roared, then soared into the air. He peered down at Vincent with a look of absolute disgust, then cupped his hands together in front of him. A smal orb of fire formed in his hands, but started to grow larger and larger as he focused more of his fire into it. The sphere grew larger and larger until it was almost as big as he was.

Vincent watched the display from below and quickly realised that he may have to fight fire with fire, rage with rage. Chaos appeared to be his only chance, but he was already tired from the first time he transformed. It would be hard to control the Chaos being, but he had to do it, if for no other reason to stay alive. Eric was too angry to be calmed by words, and his fury was being channeled by his own transformation. However, this transformation was different from the last one. Last time, Eric had physically changed dramatically, but now, he had taken on an almost completely different form, but how?

Vincent didn't receive much time to ponder this however, as Eric had finished forming the huge ball of flame. The fiery being clasped his hhands together and raised them above his head. Before he could even react to this, Vincent watched as Eric slammed his hands down on the ball, and sent in carrening down on the ground. Vincent saw his only escape, and jumped into the air as his own wings formed out of the black mist that had surrounded him. He flapped his wings and soared to the left, just avoiding the molten ball as it rocketed into the marsh and exploded. Vincent flapped as hard as he could to avoid the spreading wall of flame behind him, and came up to the same height as Eric; all while trying to keep his appearance from becoming too menacing.

"Eric, please, you must calm down," Vincent instructed.

"And who are you to order me!" Eric asked, before unleashing a stream of fire from his hand.

"A friend," Vincent shouted over the roar of the flames, "A friend who doesn't want to see you in trouble."

"Trouble?" Eric asked, "You wish for me to be out of trouble? I will be rid of my troubles when my parents are avenged and you are dead!"

The next few minutes were a blur to Vincent. Dodging Eric's attacks were easy, for his rage distracted him too much for him to really focus, Vincent noticed that Eric wasn't tiring out, but was only growing more angry with each missed attack. Vincent saw that the situation would require drastic measures, otherwise, Eric might go completely berserk and destroy more then just Vincent. Vincent saw that the only true way to stop Eric would be to reach out to his humanity.

Vincent stopped dodging and flapped his wings to stay in flight. "Eric, I won't fight you," he said stoically, and prepared for the attack. Whether it ended his life or not, Vincent didn't care, it would be a welcome repreive to what he had been dealing with for so many years. His one hope now was that Eric would come to his senses. He raised his hands in surrender, and Eric blasted.

The wall of flames consumed him, and he felt as if he was shriveling up. Vincent felt not only the pain of flames, but the very pain of Eric's heart, all the anguish that was pervading his spirit, and finally, the overwhelming feeling of loss and hopelessness. As the subsided, and Eric stared at him dumbfoundedly, a single tear formed in his eye, before hihs wings disappeared and he fell towards the earth.

Eric watched in awe as the target of his hate fell from the sky. He felt torn, for although he still felt anger and biterness towards Vincent, he also saw the sacrifice the man had made. Completely confused, he swooped down and caught Vincent, then landed on the ground. His flames died away, and the wings vanished, and all that was left was a broken young man, and boy that had lost everything in the span of a few moments.

He knelt over Vincent's still form, still shocked at what he had done. Hhe had never wanted to kill him, he realized.

"I didn't want you to die," Eric cried out, "I didn't want you to die! I just..I just wanted to get payback, to avenge my parents for their sufferring."

Vincent slowly opened one eye, wincing at the pain still coursing through him, "Is that really what you wanted?"

"Vincent!" Eric cried, going to embrace his friend, but stopped. His heart was still torn.

"Tell me," Vincent said again, "Is that really what you wanted?"

"Well, yes and no," Eric answered quietly, "I just…I just wanted to repay your actions."

"And did it trully get you anywhere?" Vincent asked, his voice no more then a whisper.

"No," Eric said sadly, his head hanging low, "It didn't. It only brought more pain."

"You see," Vincent said simply, "Vengeance brings nothing but more trouble upon yourself and those around you. I don't ask or expect your forgiveness," Vincent said slowly, "But at least promise me that you will never strike out in vengeance at anyone, no matter what they have done to you."

Eric nodded, and he looked at the materia in his hand. It was the materia of Ifrit, the Burning Summon of Rage. Never had Eric ever thought that he would kill someone, but yet here laid Vincent, dying before him. He had to do something, even if it was for his parent's murderer.

Quickly, he rushed to the belt of materia that was lying on the ground, and pulled out a materia, one he had never had to use before, Life.

He rushed back to Vincent's side, and was about to cast it, when he realized what this would mean. Using the Life spell required that the caster place a small portion of their own spirit into that of the target. If Eric did this, if he put some of his own life into Vincent, he would be rescuing the opne he had wanted to die. He didn't do it, thinking about how appropriate it was, but saw that he couldn't have any life on his hands, even a murderer's.

A he finished the spell, and Vincent sat up, and Eric looked into the eyes of a killer, and saw within them remorse, anguish, and shame, the very things that Eric had felt just now. Did that make him a killer as well? Did his action of almost taking the life of another, his willingness to snatch the breath out of another human, even if to payback for his parent's death, make him a murderer, just like Vincent? Eric wept openly, not for Vincent, not for himself, but for his parents, the two people that had been ripped away from him, for no other reason then because Eric existed.

He would eventually be able to forgive the man. Perhaps not immediately, but forgiveness would come. It would be what his parents would want.

As the young man wept, Vincent let him fall against his shoulder. He knew what that felt like, to have a need to shed tears, but unlike Eric, Vincent never had a shoulder to lean on.

"I hate you, Vincent," Eric sobbed quietly, "I hate you."  
"I know," the man replied, patting him lightly, "I know."

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So, that's it for the chapter. What do you think. Vincent is once again taking on a fatherly role, and I believe that he really would. As I said earlier, please R&R. I would love to here as many comments about this chapter and the story overall so far. Thank you very much. 


	12. Techie Time!

Hello everybody. This is VincentValentine13. I have written corner with this story. Now, I have dynamite to destroy my writer's block, but I don't have a mtach, so I will share my alternate storyline thingers. I will provide commentary on each as well, heehee. I feel like a director on a dvd!

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Well, this is an alternate ending to the one you've read. I initially wanted to use this as a way to bring Vincent and Kathleen together. You may also noticed that Kathleen was not the original name. I scrapped this idea when I found it to be a bit too cliche. I was going to have Yuffie and Eric win the tournament and then get invited to a ball by Cait Sith.

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Vincent sat alone in the ballroom, looking at the many different costumes those in attendance were wearing. It was surprising seeing Eric and Yuffie working together so well in the tournament, but it was even more amazing that they won, and without Eric using any materia at all. And what was that weapon Eric had used?

Almost from nowhere, Eric was standing next to Vincent. Instead of his usual clothes, Eric was now dressed in a green robe. On his head was a light brown, steeple-topped hat, with a wide brim that overshadowed his face. On his feet were a pair of brown, leather boots.

"Well, what do you think," Eric asked him, indicating his costume.

Vincent was at a loss of words, looking at the clothes he had seen in history books. "Well, it's..it's old."

"I know," Eric answered excitedly, "The shop keeper told me that this was the style for mages way back when, and so I had to get it. I might where this all the time!"

Vincent looked at Eric, and how happy he was. It was good to see that something so simple could make him so happy. Vincent couldn't think of the last time something that silly had made him that happy. Yuffie suddenly bounded up behind Eric. She was dressed in a silk kimono, blue and white in color, and her hair was put up with two chopsticks. The long, flowing sleeves came down a small way from the tip of her hand, and on her feet were sandals.

She came and grabbed Eric's hand. "If you're not going to ask me to dance," she said, "then I'll make you dance with me." As she pulled him away, Eric turned back and gave Vincent a 'what can you do?' look. He watched the two walk off, then decided to go onto the balcony and get some air. The room had suddenly become very stuffy, and Vincent felt sweat forming on his forehead.

As he stepped into the cool night air and leaned on the balcony rail, he looked into the sky. It was cloudy, but the moon could still be seen. It was bright and pale, and the light coming from it made him feel at peace. Suddenly, Vincent felt the hair stand on the back of his neck. On instinct, he pulled out his gun and turned around quickly, but jumped when he saw who was in his sights.

There stood the woman from the club. Instead of the gown from earlier, she was now wearing a black, low cut dress. The sleeves fit tight on her arms until it came to the ends, where they opened wide and hung off her hands. The lower half was black as well, and a large slit all the way down the front revealed another dress underneath. This was not actually a dress, but actually many black belts, each cossing over and intersecting each other. Vincent stood there a moment, stunned. She returned his gaze with a sly, exotic look.

"Do you always great a girl that way?" she asked as she walked over to the balcony. She leaned against it, looking out into the distance. Vincent put his gun back, then turned and leaned against the balcony as well.

"So what are you doing here," she asked quietly. "It's rather lonely out here."

"That's how I like things," Vincent replied, but then he quickly followed it with, "most of the time."

"Same here," she agreed, "It helps me think."

There was a long silence, then she turned to him and said, "I don't think we've been properly introduced. I am Olivia Carmen. And you are…"

"Vincent Valentine," Vincent answered, taking her extended left hand. But then he stopped, and looked at his clawed hand. Olivia saw it, then switched over to her right. Vincent extended his and they shook. She turned back to balcony again, and Vincent felt slightly embarassed.

"You sing very well," he complimented quietly.

"Thank you," she nodded politely, "It's an old song and one of the very few I know by heart."

"Do you sing a lot?"

"Actually no. I do it when I find places I can perform at, but I'm not really a professional." At this, she stood up, and walked over to the center of the balcony. She turned around, her blonde hair shining in the moonlight. As she did, a waltz could be heard from the ballroom.

"Shall we dance?" was all she asked.

Vincent walked over and took her right hand, but again stopped when he reached for her left hand. She looked at him, then grabbed his metal hand, not shivering or jumping when she touched the cold metal. As they started to dance, Vincent almost tripped over his feet trying to remember the steps. It had been so long since he had done the waltz.

As the tempo picked up, the two of them lost themselves in the other's eyes.

Eric and Yuffie continued their dance until the end. When the waltz was finished, Eric turned to her.

"I need to get something to drink. Do you want something?"

"Sure, anything will be fine."

As he walked over to the banquet table, Eric felt wonderful. The entire day had been great, and he felt like he was walking on cloud nine. He reached the table, and noticed a man looking at him. He looked somewhat like Vincent, only his hair was more straight, and his eyes were a brown versus red. He was in a blue suit, with a pair of black gloves on his hands. Eric thought that he looked familiar, like he had seen him before, but he shrugged it off, saying that it was just because he looked so much like Vincent. As he poured some punch into cups, he felt someone standing behind him. The barrel of a gun was pushed against his back, and a hand was placed on his shoulder. A man's voice said quietly, "Keep your mouth shut, and don't make any attempts to escape." The man escorted Eric out the doors and into the hall, where two other men waited, one tall one with a bald head and sunglasses, and one with bright red hair.

"Is this him?" the one with the red hair asked.

The man with the dark hair nodded, and led the group down the hall.

Yuffie stood there, tapping her foot and waiting for Eric to get back. Eric was strange. He seemed powerful, especially after that display at the tournament, but he was so meek, and didn't like fighting at all. Any boy in Wutai would have been bragging up and down the streets if they had strength like that, but Eric didn't seem to like it. Boy he was weird.

Yuffie got tired of waiting and decided to go look for him. As she approached the table, she saw Eric being led off by a man in blue. His long black hair was a dead-give away, and Yuffie knew that Eric was in deep trouble. She just had to find Vincent.

Vincent and Olivia sat together on a bench on the balcony, looking at each other. A slight breeze blew a few strands of Vincent's hair into his eyes, and Olivia reached up slowly and brushed it away. After the waltz, they had spoken about the stars and the moon, and how beautiful they looked, at least when they were visible. Then they had fallen silent after that, and sat gazing at each other. He barely knew her, but he felt like he had known her forever. Her pale face and gentle touch made him feel human again, and he felt at peace. Everything was perfect now, the light, the music and Olivia.

"Vincent!" The sudden voice of Yuffie shattered the mood of it all, and as Vincent turned to see the girl approach, the only thing on his mind was how he could kill her without anyone knowing. Yuffie approached the couple, with Cait Sith in tow.

"Vincent! This isn't the time to be lovey-dovey! Eric's been kidnapped!"

"What?" Vincent asked, jumping up. His face had turned red from embarassment and anger. His guess was that Eric had left Yuffie by herself for the same reasons Vincent wanted to. "What do you mean?"

"I saw him walk out with Tseng from the Turks!"

Vincent looked back to Olivia. "Perhaps we could continue this later," he asked. "I need to see to this. I'm sure it's really nothing," he said, glaring at Yuffie.

"Very well," Olivia answered, though she seemed dissapoiinted. "I hope your friend's alright."

"I'm sure he is," Vincent mumbledd as he stalked away, with Yuffie and Cait Sith following.

"What do you want with me?" Eric asked for the third time as the Turks led him down to a helipad.

"You belong to Shinra," the man whom the others called Tseng said. "We've been looking for you. Did you honestly think you could run forever?"

"But, it's been so long, why do you still need me?"

"Beats us," said Reno, who was walking along nonchalantly down the hall with his hands behind his head. "All we know is that you're needed for some expiriment, and if they can't get you, then they're going to use us, so better you then me."

The group reached the helipad at the top of the building. This pad was meant for those in charge of Gold Saucer, and was rather large. Eric glanced around, but there was no way out. If he tried to run, he would be shot. The entrance onto the pad was through a stair that come up into a shack-like structure, and Reno had wrapped a long chain around the structure and then clasped it with a lock, so that exit was sealed. Tseng had tied Eric's hands together and had taken his chakrams, so he couldn't fight. The only place to run would be off the landing pad, and that led to a fifty foot drop. Just thinking about something that high made him dizzy. Rude, the large bald man, pushed him forward to a helicopter with the Shinra symbol on the side, hidden behind some fuel tanks.

Suddenly, a large banging erupted from the door they had come from. The three men turned around to see the door shaking violently, with the chain being the only thing to keep it in place. The pounding continued until a gold, metallic hand burst through the metal door, grabbed the chain, and with a horrible tearing sound, pulled the broken chain through the hole. The door flew open, and Yuffie and Cait Sith jumped out.

"Let him go!" Yuffie ordered before throwing her shurikan. It flew through the air, almost hitting Tseng. He ducked, giving Eric enough time to escape and run towards a water storage tank. The tank stands had sharp edges, and when he got there, he started using them to saw the ropes off his wrists.

Tseng, frustrated at the escape, gave the order, "Kill them! I'll get the kid."

"Roger, Tseng," Reno answered, then turned to see Cait Sith standing before him. "Don't make me laugh," he chuckled, then before he could react, the cat had jumped on his face and was clawing and biting like mad. Reno tried to pull him off, but the nasty little cat hadd already dug his claws into his precious face.

Yuffie stood across from Rude, who grinned at her and cracked his knuckles. Her shurikan came back, and she stood ready. They stared each other down for a moment, but then Rude's hand started to glow. Yuffie jumped back and threw her shurikan, but Rude dove to side and slammed his fist into the ground. The metal roof shook and ripped apart with the power of the eartquake.

Eric sawed the ropes off his wrists and had snuck up behind Reno, who had finally gotten Cait Sith off his face. With Cait Sith the way he was, he really stood no chance against the trained assasin, so Eric was rushing to cast a spell. The Turks had not taken his materia, thinking that with his hands tied, Eric would not be able to use it. Though they were right, Eric's hands were no longer bound. The energy flowed through him, electrical energy charging within him, but before he could finish a gun shot was heard and he fell to the ground, his leg wracked with pain. He clasped his calve and saw blood coming from where the bullet had entered. He turned and saw Tseng placing his gun back in its holster. He approached Eric triumphantly, but when he was about three yards away, a shadow passed over him. Eric looked up and saw a winged being fly over-head and land right in front of him. It was Vincent, though now there was a set of black batwings on his back under his cape. His black hair was swirling around his face, which had darkened. His eyes glowed a malicious red, and he released a roar, revealing two rows of sharp fangs. He turned to Tseng, who stood straight and unafraid. He smirked at Vincent, then said loudly, loud enough for Eric to hear, "How long do you think you can protect him? Have you forgotten so quickly your past?"

Eric sat confused, wincing at the pain of his wound. A darkness was creeping into his eyes, and Eric wanted to let unconsciousness take him, but this was too important to miss. Tseng continued, "It's evident to me, Vincent, that you have forgotten your earlier times with the Turks. Did this boy not remind you?" Vincent growled, but did not move. "Well, his name, Eric Constantine, and appearance, as well as his join date all added up, and now I know why he was so familiar to me. This boy was our very first assignment. I remember very clearly now his parents, and who it was that shot and killed them! Don't you remember, Vincent?"

Eric's eyes widened, the disbelief complete. Eric knew what was being said, and he did not want to believe it. The emotional strain overwhelmed him, and he lost consciousness.

Vincent thought back, pushing through the feral mind of the monster and digging through his memory. It was true. He had killed Eric's parents, though it had not been in cold blood. He now remembered what had happened. He looked up to Tseng, then rushed at him, and wrapped his claw around the man's throat.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you," Vincent growled through clenched fangs. Tseng was able to chuckle slightly, though that made Vincent squeeze tighter, and he lifted Tseng right off the ground. Tseng motioned with his head for Vincent to look behind him. When he did, he saw that both Yuffie and Cait Sith were being held by the other Turks. Yuffie had a large bruise on her cheek and Cait Sith had bloody splotches in his fur. Neither of them were moving. Vincent slowly lowered Tseng to the ground, then turned to the other two. They threw the his friends to the ground, and Rude approached Eric's motionless form as Reno stood over the other two, a gun trained on them. Vincent stood there, powerless and without hope.

Suddenly, Reno started to shake uncontrollably, his hair standing completely on end. Vincent watched a current of electricity passing through Reno's body, only to continue on and connect with Rude as well. Both of them dropped to the ground, smoke rising from their bodies. Vincent stood baffled until he saw the source.

Standing by the destroyed door was Olivia. In her hand was a wand, which was now pointed at Tseng.

"Back off, worm," she ordered, then approached the battle-worn group. Her violet eyes were glowing, and her hair whipped about her head like it was in a windstorm. Tseng backed up as she approached, almost falling off the edge of the saucer. "Take your men and leave," she commanded. Tseng didn't hesitate as he ran and awoke his partners. They staggered to their feet and made their way to their helicopter.

As it took of, Vincent slipped back into his human form. "Thank you," he said gratefully, but Olivia was already at work tending to the others.

"There'll be plenty of time for that later," she said quickly, "Right now, your friends need us."

The pair brought the others down to the company infirmery. The doctor was able to successfully remove the bullet from Eric's leg, though the wound would be a while in healing. The doctor explained that he had lost a fair amount of blood, but that he was also mentally exhausted. The emotional stress was too much for him, which is why he lost consciousness. As for Cait Sith and Yuffie, their wounds were not as severe, and were easily revitalized, though Yuffie was going to have that bruise for a while. Cait Sith had his fur washed, then had a robe sent from his office up to their room. None of them spoke the rest of the night as they kept a silent vigil over their friend.

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This next one is an idea I had for the battle between Eric and Vincent. This takes place way before the most recent chapter, and was fought in the plains outside of Goldsaucer. Vincent's inner demons didn't approve of Eric, and decided to try and off him.

Vincent's dreams that night disturbed him more then usual. The clawed hands that had intruded on his dreams two nights ago were back again; this time, however, he did more then just see them. Each one grabbed onto him, tearing at him, sending horrible, cold shots of pain through him. He moved and squirmed about, trying to break free, but to no avail. The darkness was consuming him. Suddenly, the hands pulled away, flowing back to the shadows from which they came. Vincent saw them return to the black abyss, but then saw something else coming out. At first, he could not make out what it was, but it was small, about his size, and looked human enough. It stopped a short distance away, the silhouette of the figure the only thing Vincent could see. Suddenly, a laugh, a cruel, wicked laugh, erupted from the figure.

"Who are you," Vincent called out, his voice shaken from its normally cool and collected tone.

The figure laughed again, the sound sending a quake to Vincent's core. "Do you not recognize me," the voice answered. Vincent's eyes opened wide. He knew that voice; but it could not be!

"I know what you're thinking," the voice said, stepping closer, allowing Vincent to see its owner. "You're thinking that I could not possibly sound so wicked," Eric said smugly, his face displaying a wicked sneer. "You're thinking that I couldn't possibly have such dark powers. You are thinking that this cannot be real. Nevertheless, I assure you, it is. It is very much real."

Vincent stared dumbfounded at the sight. Never would he have thought of this, even in his wildest nightmares. Nevertheless, here Eric stood, his eyes glowing maliciously, a wicked smile splayed across his face. The shadows around them melted away to reveal the very clearing in which they were sleeping. Over to side, beneath a tree, laid Yuffie, sleeping peacefully.

"A sleeping spell," Eric explained casually, "so don't try to call for help."

"Why are you doing this," Vincent growled. His confusion was great, but his anger was becoming greater. He should have seen this. He should have known not to trust him.

"Simple, really," Eric answered, walking a few steps closer to Yuffie's sleeping form. "I wanted your power; that wonderful bit of darkness that hides within you. About a year ago, Hojo promised me your power if I could find you, so that he could continue his experiments."

"What about your own powers?"

"Inborn, and of no use to the pitiful mortal," Eric answered nonchalantly. "But your power would make me immortal, and that is what I truly seek. Having such strength would allow me to change this world to fit my needs and my whims, and no one would be able to stop me. I just had to find you and get close enough for you to trust me. Now that I have, I will take you back to Shinra."

"Hojo is dead, remember?" Vincent replied his eyes and voice dripping with venom.

"A minor set back, for there is more then one scientist in the world."

At this point, Eric had slowly made his way over to Yuffie, and was standing over her. "You will come with me quietly if you want the girl to survive."

Vincent was trembling with rage, and he reached for his gun. His hand passed through nothing but air and he looked up to see Eric twirling Death Sentence around his finger. "Looking for this," the evil being taunted.

Vincent saw how hopeless the situation had become. He could transform into Chaos, but then Eric would kill Yuffie before he had a chance to strike. He dropped his eyes to the ground and slowly nodded his head. "Alright, I'll go with you."

"Are you giving up so easily?"

Vincent turned, looking for the owner of the voice. The voice that sounded so familiar, and yet he could not put his finger on the source. As he glanced around, his eyes finally saw the owner, and it was someone that he was both relived and terrified to see again.

Eric awoke with a start, his ears hearing the sound of angry, almost inhuman, growls. He looked around and saw Vincent, curled in a fetal position. Suddenly, he thrashed around, his voice issuing another cry of anger. Eric got up quickly, realizing that his friend was in trouble. He slowly approached the disturbed man's sleeping form.

"Vincent," he said softly, not wanting to awaken him too suddenly. With behavior like this, Eric wasn't sure what to expect. "Vincent," he said again, this time his voice filled with more panic. He reached slowly for Vincent's shoulder, hoping to shake him awake.

Before Vincent stood Chaos, the terrible being that haunted his nightmares. "Release me, Vincent. Let me help you kill this menace."

"No! Never again," Vincent shouted back, his voice sounding strong. In truth though, he wondered if he should. When he thought about it, he had no hope of saving Yuffie as he was, but perhaps he could save her with Chaos' help.

"Alright," Vincent said.

"Good," the demon replied, his mouth smiling and showing a mouth full of wicked teeth. The demon chuckled to himself, "Very good."

Vincent turned back to the evil wretch that was Eric. He approached the young man, and with every step feeling the power of Chaos flow through him. He reached Eric, who was now looking down at Yuffie with an almost sad glance. "I shall miss her," he said quietly, "Though I guess she would prove an excellent experiment subject."

Vincent couldn't take any more, and as Eric turned around, Vincent's left hand shot out and grabbed his throat. Chaos was in control now, and Vincent had enough rage to keep him around for a very long time.

Eric jumped back when Vincent's eyes opened, but he wasn't quick enough. Befor he could react, Vincent's hand had wrapped tightly around his throat, the tips of the claws diggin in and draw trickles of blood. Eric struggled to break free, his hands holding onto Vincent's wrist, but it was no good. He tried to call out, but the sound of his voice was caught in his throat, and would not leave. Vincent's eyes glowed red, his irises to the whites. His mouth, now curled in a wicked sneer, revealed to rows of fangs. His skin was darkening, and and his hair disappeared like it was smoke. On his back, to black wings, similar to those of a bat, had formed instead. The looked into Eric's eyes with a gaze of pure hatred, then he threw the young man to the side. Eric toppled head over heels, and into the base of a tree. His head struck the tree, and pain coursed though him. He shook his head and tried to stand up, but found his legs too weak for the action. He looked to Yuffie, who was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She looked at the scene before her, Chaos slowly walking towards a dazed Eric, and realised that they were in grave danger. This wasn't the first time she had seen Chaos, and knew that if Eric was the target, he was going to need her help. "Hey! Chuckles," Yuffie called, hoping to distract the demon. It turned its gaze to her, and a faint glimmer of recognition crossed its eyes. Chaos looked at her and knew only one thing. This girl was a friend of Eric's, so she must die as well. It It swiped its arm towards her, sending out a thin beam of energy. Yufffie leaped to side and dodged to attack, then turned to see the beam cut cleanly through the tree she had stood in front of. The tree, looked unharmed at first, but then a thin line appeared in about the middle of the trunk, and suddenly the entire top half to the tree exploded. Yuffie blew out a quiet breath of relief, knowing that if she had been any slower, that would have been her who had turned into mulch.

Eric finally got to his feet in time to witness the terrifying attack. He looked to see if Yuffie was alright, and she looked back to him she nodded, showing she was alright. Eric didn't like this. He didn't wan't to fight Vincent, for fear of injuries to himself and his friend, but it looked like that he had no other choice. The monster turned and looked him, then approached. Suddenly, Eric felt the ground beneath his feet shift. He looked down and saw the very earth lifting up beneath him. He looked back to Chaos and saw it lifting its arms above its head. Eric tried to move, but his feet felt like lead.

"Eric, get out of there!" Yuffie cried. She had seen this attack before, the same one that had killed Hojo. She knew Eric had no hope.

Eric could only watch in horror as the ground continued to rise. The very shape of the raised gropund looked like a skull, and the eye sockets of it burned with a terrifying fire. He looked again to his attacker, who slowly, brought his clawed hand across his throat in a cutting motion, then motioned for his victim to look down. Eric looked, and saw the fire of the eyes glow even brighter. They flashed brightly, and sent a pure, agonizing wave through Eric's body. It burned him to his soul, and Eric felt above all else, the pull to give up. If he had, he would have died, but he ignored it, knowing that he would not give up on his friend until he was sure he ould return to his old self. The wave stopped as suddenly as it started, and both Yuffie and Chaos were amazed to see he had survived. But Yuffie knew that that was only the first part of the agony, and Yuffie was left to do nothing but watch. Or was she? Thinking quickly, Yuffie grabbed her shurikan off her belt and hurled it at Chaos. It sliced into the beast's back before returning to her. The strike had distracted the monster enough to halt his attack. The mound beneath Eric's feet shattered, dropping Eric onto the ground on his knees. His eyes were wide, and his face was pale, as if he had seen a ghost, which may have been very possible. The attack, Satan Slam, required the souls of evil beings, so Eric may have come in contact with the wretched things during the horrible attack. Yuffie didn't have time to ponder this, though. She had to get to Eric. If what Vincent had told her about there time in in the mountains behind Nibelheim, then she knew what had to be done.

Eric sat, his arms wrapped around himself, trying to shake of the horrible feeling of despair that had filled his heart. The cold, loneliness was overwhelming, and Eric found himself slipping into darkness. He looked up at the monster that had once been his friend, andf only the image of the evil transformation helped him to shake off the darkness. The monster had turned back to Yuffie, and she was coming towards Er4ic at a great speed, her eyes once again filled with the beginning of tears. Her hand was clasped around something, and although Eric was sure it had to be materia, he still didn't understand what she had ion mind.

"Eric!" she called as she threw the materia to him. The beast tried to catch it, spreading its great wings in flight to grab it first, but Yuffie tackled the monster, and Eric was able to catch the shining red materia. It glowed brightly in his hands, a light coming forth that was brigfht and warm. Eric reached into it to use its power, but then had to duck and roll as Chaos threw Yuffie at him. She crashed into a tree, her head banging hard against the bark. She gave out a small wimper, then crumpled into a heap. Eric rushed over to her.

"Yuffie! Yuffie! Are you alright!" Eric saw she was breathing, though blood was coming from the back of her head. Eric knelt beside her, his own eyes now filling with tears. The monster stalked towards the pair, his eyes gleaming with hunger.

"Get away!" Eric screamed to the beast, and the monster seemed to hesitate for a moment. That was all the time Eric needed. Calling into the materia, he begged for aid, not sure of who to expect. Suddenly, Eric felt the energy build within him, but it was not the kind that he normally felt with a summoning. He had felt this way once before, back in the Nibelheim mountains. Anger at his inability to protect Yuffie flooded through him. Anger at the monster for attack them, and strongest of all was the feeling of betrayal from Vincent. Why did he attack them?

"Why, Vincent!" Eric screamed for all he was worth, before he felt a being behind him. He turned and beheld a man, no, not a man, for he seemed like neither a man nor a monster. He sat on the back of horse that had six legs. The being nodded to him, then flew right towards him, but Eric didn't try to dodge. The being, Odin, eneterd into him, and suddenly, Eric felt himself changing. The wings came back, sprouting forth just as they had before. Next, Eric felt his legs and arms surge with a strength that wasn't human, and in his hand formed a large lance. He suddenly found himself on the back of the horse, if it could be called a horse. He looked the monster, who's eyes now seemed to have a hint of fear in them. Eric pulled the reigns of his steed, and it reared up. He charged forward, lance leading, and Chaos did likewise, his wings and claws outstretched.

"Let me lead," a voice said quietly in Eric's head. It was the voice of Odin, and Eric knew better then to argue. This being had been doing this a lot longer then Eric had, so Eric was happy to relinquish control.

"Don't let go," Odin said suddenly, "Just let me control the body. You'll know what to do when the time comes, and you'll be glad you still had control."

But before Eric could ask what he meant, Chaos swooped in, his claws cutting hard into the armor that had formed on Eric's shoulders. It hurt, but Odin answered with a jab of his lance, going straight through the monster's leg. The two passed by each other, then turned to see who betweent them had suffered more damage.

"Dun noc tus lome," Chaos said loudly, in alanguage that sounded familiar to Eric. Then before he had a chance to say anything else, Odin shot back, "Shin fo hin del, co juy thij xant."

"What did you say?" Eric asked Odin, looking confused.

"Does it not sound familiar to you?"

"Yes, but I can't understand it," Eric replied.

"He said that the body is his, and I said that one such as him could not hold the form forever. Basically, I challenged him to see who could hold their material form longer."

"But that will tire us out," Eric said, indicating himself and Vincent.

"It all depends on who has the stronger will, and who will receive more damage in the coming fight. Do you want to save your friend?"

"I'm not so sure," Eric said. He didn't know if he wanted to save Vincent, for any other reason then to aske him why he was attacking him and Yuffie. But he wouldn't allow anything to happen to Yuffie, that much he did know.

"Then fight for Yuffie," Odin answered, then reared his horse before charging again.

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Well, that was that idea. I scrapped this because I had worked to a point that I couldn't escape, and some of you may recall when I removed this chapter.

Now I have some small character bios for Vincent and Yuffie. I'm still working on Eric's still, so check it out.

Vincent Valentine

Age: 28

Weapon: Gun

Height: 6'

Birthdate: October 13

Birthplace: Unknown

Blood Type: A

Job: Proverbial Guardian of Eric

Theme: Otherworld-Alexander O Smith(Final Fantasy X)

Bio: Vincent Valentine is a dark, mystical man. He was once a part of the Turks, but after losing his love, Lucrecia, and his humanity to an experiment, he left the organization. Although he had a major hand in saving the world from the threat of Meteor and Sephiroth, he did not accept the fame that came with it. He instead went to the Shinra Mansion, the place where he had spent a portion of his life in quiet contemplation, to return to his silent life. However, he did not remain in his home all the time. He made it a personal job to go out and keep a watchful eye over the town of Nibelheim by night, and rest by day. He is no longer human, due to the experiment that was performed on him by a man named Hojo, and therefore does not need that which humans require to survive. Being very anti-social, it was a shock to him when he was somewhat forced to take in a young man named Eric. Although at the time he found him he was not aware of Eric's abilities in battle, Vincent learned of the young man's strengths when he saved Vincent from being killed by a dragon on Mt. Nibel. Feeling a certain responsibilty for Eric a need to repay his debt, and being forced out of his home by an angry mob, he decided to aid Eric in his search to find out why he's so different. He was later reminded by Tseng, an old acquaintence from the Turks, that Vincent was the one who had killed Eric's parents. Vincent managed to calm the enraged Eric before he was killed by the young man's anger, but now feels even more guilty for not realizing who Eric was in the first place.

Yuffie Kisaragi

Age: 17

Weapon: Super Shurikan

Height: 5'2"

Birthdate: November 20

Birthplace: Wutai

Blood Type: A

Job: Materia Hunter, Ninja

Theme: Sugar Baby Love-Yoko Ishida, "Sweets"(Japanese Version)

Bio: Yuffie is a young girl from Wutai. She has a big attitude and is not afraid to show it. Arrogant and cocky, Yuffie feels untouchable. She comes from a long line of Wutaian ninja, but is certainly not what those in her country would call normal. She met Eric when she tried to steal his materia, but found that he was too hard for her to defeat. She joined Eric with the intent of stealing his materia at a later time, but has slowly developed a liking for him; perhaps something a little more (though she would never admit it). Eric has saved her life once, when a chocobo she was riding went out of control, and used the opportunity to steal some of Eric's materia, but after feeling guilty about the action(and a little persuasion from Vincent), she returned them in good time. As she was starting to teach Eric the ways of throwing weapons, she was forced to watch as he was carried off by the Turks. Seeing only one solution to the problem, she rushed off to find Vincent.

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Finally, I want to tell you about the changes I will be making about the previous chapters. After reading them, I came to the conculsion that they are not very good, so I'm going to be fleshing them out until I get to writing the new chapter. I hope you enjoyed this tech bit, and I hope you'll keep reading. If anyone has any suggestions for the story so far, e-mail them to me, and I'll be happy to read over them. 


	13. Something Wicked This Way Comes

Hey everybody! It's me, Yuffie! Sorry it took so long for the next chapter, but Eric kept whining about not knowing what to write. What a baby! Anywho, this is the next chapter, though I doubt it will be as good as the one two chapters ago. I mean, can he honestly believe that it's been two chapters without me? I've been stuck in Gold Saucer this whole time. What a jerk! Uh oh, Vincent's coming, gotta go!

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Eric stared deep into the inky blackness of sleep, that world where all dreams take shape. Tonight however, no images stood before him, just the darkness of his thoughts. His confusion swirled around, confusion about Vincent, himself, and so many other things. Finally, though, his thoughts fell onto one thing; his parents. He missed them terribly, and the thought of them being shot, gunned down when they had done nothing wrong, pained him so much that he fell to the black ground and wept softly, his shoulders shaking with each sob.

"Aw, how sad," a cold voice said from the darkness, its tone bitter, wicked and cruel, and Eric look up and peered into the black fog for the source. At first, he saw nothing, but then from the swirling mists, a figure stepped forward, and Eric gasped when he saw who it was, his entire being feeling cold. The voice belonged to a being who's features were familiar; as Eric looked at the figure, he realized he was looking at a reflection of himself. Long, silver hair swirled around its pale face like the mists around him, and his red eyes glowed intensly. He wore a simple black robe, and on his back was a set of black-feathered wings that shimmered like oil on water. The nails on his hands were long and sharp, like claws, and his teeth were pointed and menacing. Is this what I look like when I transform? Eric asked himself.

"Is the poor little boy sad?" the shadow Eric asked mockingly, "Do you need to cry?"

Eric didn't reply, but looked back down at his hands sadly, the creatures words seeming to come down on him like stones. Regardless of how startling the reflection may have been, Eric simply couldn't look up, crushed beneath a weight of sorrow.

"Answer me when I speak to you!" the being shouted and slapped Eric hard on the side of his face, his nails scraping against his cheek and causing tiny lines of red to form on his skin. Eric tumbled to the ground from the force of the blow, and looked up bitterly at his attacker. "That's better," the demon mocked, "Look up at your master."

"What are you?" Eric asked slowly, rising to his feet. "What's going on here?"

"This, dear boy, is your mind, or at least the darker portion of it. And I am you, or perhaps to be more precise, your darker half; the half that will soon be in control. You may call me Cire."

"What do you mean, 'soon to be in control'?"

"I mean," the Cire replied with a huge sigh, as if it were bored, "I have been watching your actions from within here for quite some time, and it has come to my attention that you have not been using your gifts the way you should." Eric just gave the demon a cunfused look, and the hungry look Cire gave him sent a chill up his spine and goosebumps cover his arms.

"And how should I be using them?" Eric asked, giving the being a suspiscious look.

"Need I remind you of the dragon? You eliminated the beast with minimal effort. So, what do you think would happen if you used that power constantly? You could rule all on this planet. All would fear you, and your kingdom would be founded on the blood of those who opposed you."

"I couldn't do that," Eric replied, almost horrified.

"And why not? Wouldn't it be nice to be in control? Wouldn't it be nice to serve justice to those that have shown you none? Think about it. With this power, you could get rid of Shinra completely. You could make them suffer as you have." Eric stopped for a moment, listening to the demon's words. It was true, he could destroy Shinra. Those wretches who had taken everything away from him, the people who had ordered his parent's death in the name of greed. Yes, they could feel his pain. It would be good to make them taste sorrow.

The demon saw that his offer was having a significant effect on his listener, so he leaned in closer, practically whispering. "You could give Vincent his just reward."

Eric's mind flashed back again, this time focusing on Vincent. He could do it. Vincent could be made to suffer longer, feel pain and sorrow, and then despair as he died slowly. Wait! His mind practically screamed, what are you thinking? Kill Vincent? The man who risked his life to bring you to your senses, who saved you from so much disaster, and then felt so much remorse for what he had done to you in the past? How could you even think such a thing? He reprimanded himself. Cire looked at the change in Eric's eyes, the bitterness, but then a sudden change to guilt.

"I could never do that," Eric stated slowly, "I could not stand having the blood of others on my hands."

"How dissappointing," Cire sighed again, "I had hoped you would see things my way. Regardless, I will take control, whether you like it or not."

"I won't let you," Eric replied, clenching his fists, "I won't let you bring harm to anyone! Not even Vincent!"

"Oh really?" the demon asked, then snapped his fingers. Before Eric could react, two large, black hands shot up from the ground. They wrapped themselves around Eric's arms, and lifted him high into the air. He struggled against the cold, disembodied appendages, but they held on relentlessly, crushing his arms in their terrible grip. Eric struggled on for several moments, but soon felt as if the very strength was being syphoned out of him. He finally stopped, and hung still in the air, hoplessness enveloping him.

Cire just smiled up at his victim, then spread his wings and flew up, stopping in front of his captive.

"Now, while you hang there, listen carefully," he chuckled wickedly. "I have a very low tolerance for resistance, and an even lower tolerance for fools." His voice became a growl, a deadly and cruel sound that Eric couldn't drive away, couldn't escape. "I will ask you this one time, and one time only. Will you relinquish your control on this body to me, or will you not?" Eric didn't answer. Cire roared, "Answer me!" then punched his captive in the stomach. Eric coughed as the wind was knocked out of him, but still looked forward, refusing to answer. Another blow came, reaping the same results, then another to his face, and a kick in the gut. "You will answer me!" he shouted, "Or I shall make you wish for death! You will scream for it, but will not be able to find it, and I will be here all the while, pulling away that relief each time!" Eric just shook, his eyes turning red from the tears he was trying to hide. "Tell you what," the wicked being said, leaning in close, "I'll kill Vincent for you. That way, you won't have to. And don't worry, I'll make it long and painful. Then….hmm, maybe I'll take care of Yuffie next. Yes, Yuffie, she'll be fun to hear scream."

Eric couldn't contain himself any longer. The thought of Yuffie, the one person that he could maybe admit to having some feelings for, being tortured by anyone, made him forget everything else. He forget where he was, he forgot who he was talking to, and he forgot the overwhelming fear, anguish and hopelessness. Jerking forward, still unable to free his arms, he spit in the face of his tormentor.

"If you ever….ever lay a hand on her," he growled, his voice sounding like that of Cire's, "It shall be you who faces torment."

Cire looked slightly shocked, the corner of his mouth and his right eye twitching slightly as he wiped his face off. His red eyes narrowed and his arm shot forward, gripping Eric tightly by the throat. His nails dug deeply into the back of his neck, and blood trickled down.

"You have a lot of guts doing something like that," he said with deadly calm, "Any other time, I would crush your throat; fortunately for you, I still need you." Eric, fighting for breath, managed to glare at Cire, and the demon seemed to be speechless for a moment. "I cannot truly claim control of our power unless you seceed it to me."

"Like…I..would," Eric choked out, jerking his head back and forth, trying to get free of the deadly grasp.

"You will when you don't know any better. You see, even the strongest will can be broken over time, and your's will be simple. But first, we need to make my new accomadations a bit more suitable." Eric looked at him again, still thinking on the threat he had made on Yuffie's life. Suddenly, a searing pain coursed through his body. He let out a pained cry, and Cire laughed horribly, enjoying every moment of it.

Vincent ran swiftly through the marsh, rushing back to where he had left Eric. After the young man had fallen asleep, Vincent had left him and went around the perimeter of the empty clearing they were in, securing the area against any monsters. As he walked, he thought about what he was going to do, and he felt the weight of yet another sin come crashing down on him. Looking up into the moon, he contemplated the day he had taken his first life, the first time he touched that dark, murderous side of himself. It was then that a cry had erupted from the clearing, and Vincent, fearing for Eric's life, had raced back to see what had happened. What he saw made him recoil.

Eric lay on the ground, thrashing about madly, wild, animal-like growls coming from his mouth. Vincent stepped carefully towards him, seeing this as another tranformation. Suddenly, Eric's body rose into the air, and the young man's hands gripped the sides of his head. He continued to moan and lash his arms and legs as another change took place.

Vincent could only watch as Eric's long, brown hair became a platinum color. His skin took on a pale color, and every time his eyes opened, Vincent saw that his once emerald irises had become a maddened, blood-red. His teeth grew long and sharp, and his nails became claws. Finally, and most disturbing of all, two, thin ivory lines protruded slowly from his back. At first, it didn't seem to be anything, just two, slightly curved white protusions, with red streaks of blood from where it had pierced Eric's skin, but when these two lines had stopped extending, three other ivory lines dropped off of these, Vincent quickly realized that this was a skeletal set of wings. A black miasma swirled around them, and disappeared, leaving shimmering, black-feathered wings. Eric curled into a fetal position, his wings draping themselves around him, then with one final scream, the crescendo of his suffering, a black light shone forth from the center of his body, and a fierce wind whipped around him, carrying in its gusts a flurry of black feathers. The wind and feathers swept around Vincent, and he set his feet to keep from being blown over.

When the gale finally stopped, Eric fell from the sky and onto the ground, laying motionless. Vincent cautiously approached him, and when he saw that he was not reacting to his movements, he knelt down beside him. Running his fingers lightly on the wings, he traced them along their edge, all the way to where they connected with Eric's back. The back of his shirt was in ribbons, and Vincent carefully turned the young man over. When he saw the results of the change, it made him shiver.

There, melding into the skin as if they had been grafted in, were the ends of the black-feathered wings.

Eric finally fell still again, the pain that had been surging through him finally ending. He could barely breath, and his vision was clouded, but he could hear the malicious laughter of his darker half; the sound of a horrible victory.

"So," Cire chuckled wickedly, grabbing a handful of Eric's hair and lifting his head. He looked into Eric's eyes, all the wickedness and hate boiling within them. "Now, it's time for you to disappear."

Eric still found himself unable to speak, no words coming to him. Finally, he was able to cough out a fragment of a sentence.

"What….have….you-?"

"Done," the demon finished, "It doesn't matter because you won't live to see it. Now, to silence your voice forever."

"Can't…reach…full-"

"Full power? Don't worry, I'm sure there's some way to extract it from your broken mind." The demon raised his hand, and a sword formed in it. The blade was black, and tipped with wicked-looking barbs. Cire looked at the blade, then at Eric, the most terrifying gaze set on his face.

"Now," he said quietly, "DIE!" He thrust the blade forward, and Eric squeezed his eyes closed, hoping it would be quick. But the blade never came. After a moment, he opened one eye, expecting to see the demon gloating some more. Instead, he saw the arms of Cire being held back by someone he never would have expected. With a burning spin and toss, Ifrit, the spirit of Burning Rage, threw the demon Cire away from Eric and into the darkness. Turning back to the captive Eric, he released to burning shots from his hands that turned the hands holding him hostage into nothing but black ash. Eric fell free, and Ifrit caught him, lowering him slowly onto the ground.

"How?" was all Eric managed to get out.

"When you fused wiith my materia," the spirit explained, "I was given a link into your mind. We became junctioned, so now, I may enter your mind and vica versa." Ifrit voice was deep and strong, kind but powerful, and Eric felt completely safe with him standing next to him. "Now, to take care of your wounds," he said thoughtfully. Putting his palms towards Eric, he said something quietly under his breath. A steam went forth from his hands and surrounded Eric. Feeling the warmth pass through him, all his pain and injuries melted away, and he found himself able to stand again. Rising to his feet, he looked at his savior. He looked much different then when he summoned, though he still had a head of bright orange hair and orange eyes. His skin was a dark tan, and a tall, strong build made Eric feel almost intimidated.

"Thank you," Eric said, "I don't know what would have happened if-"

"Now is not the time," Ifrit interrupted, "Cire shall return soon. I only banished him from this area for a time, but my powers are limited. You must face and defeat him if you are to regain control of this body."

"What! You can't expect me to fight him!"

"Indeed," the spirit nodded stoically.

"But I can't! Can't you do it?"

"No," was the answer, "Because this is not my body. I would never be able to permanantly defeat him. Only you can do that."

"But…but I can't."

"You must," Ifrit replied, "But you shall not be alone."

Eric smiled slightly. At least he had Ifrit on his side. How could he be expected to destroy such a powerful being on his own? There was no way.

"I shall lend you my power," Ifrit explained. Before Eric could ask what he meant, Ifrit formed a ball of white fire in his hand. Without any warning, he shoved the flame into Eric's chest. It melted in, and Eric felt power surging through him, a burning energy that seemed to spread through him. A flash of light surrounded him, and when it dulled, he founf himself standing before the fire spirit, completely clad in a dark red armor. It was not heavy, and as he moved his arms, he found that he could move as easily as if he were wearing street clothes. On his back was a set of wings composed entirely of flames, and buckled on his waist was a sword and sheath, and as he drew the weapon, the blade burst into flames. He looked from the weapon to Ifrit in amazement.

"As I said, I have granted you my power for a short while. Use it to defeat your enemy."

"Defeat my enemy? You mean I actually have to kill him?"

"I believe I've already said that."

"I know, but I don't want to kill anything."

"It's either you or him."

"But I can't fight! I cn't use a sword!"

"Then you better learn," the spirit shrugged, "For here comes your enemy."

Eric whirled around and saw Cire shooting straight at him, his wings fully extended. Eric lept to the side and rolled across the ground, leaping to his feet when he stopped. "When did I learn to do that?" he asked himself, but didn't really have time to think it through. Cire swooped around and brought his blade to bear, swinging down at Eric's head. Without even thinking about it, Eric raised his blade to block, and the black sword bounced harmlessly off of the burning fire brand. His arms moving almost by themselves, Eric thrust the sword forward, towards the heart of his opponent, but Cire flew upwards. Eric spread his own wings with a simple thought and gave chase. Following close behind, he pointed his sword up and a blast of flame erupted upwards. It encircled Cire, and he growled in pain as the flames burned him. Spreading his wings, he dispersed the flames, and shot a ball of absolute darkness from his palm. Eric moved gracefully to the side, but the ball clipped his foot. A numbing feeling spread throughout his left leg as the ball clung to his foot.

"Burn away the poison," he heard Ifrit say in his mind. The blade flashed as a beam of flame seared across his foot. It did not injure him, but instead burned away the foul orb and brought the feeling back to his limb. Cire looked at what his enemy had done, and, becoming enraged at the unsucessful attack, hurled his sword at Eric. It spun around, straight at Eric's head, but missed as he ducked, and continued on its flight, curving back around to the left and stopping as it reached its master's hand. Eric, seeing this as his chance to strike, flew forward, an upward swing smashing against the dark blade. Cire countered with a downward swing, which Eric managed to block. Pressing his own blade against Eric's, the two clinched their swords masterfully, neither one giving quarter.

"Very nice," Cire grunted as he tried to force Eric down, "I didn't expect this from you."

"We don't have to do this," Eric replied, "I don't want to hurt you."

"I do," Cire retorted. Grinning wickedly, jerked his head upwards and pushed off from Eric's blade. Eric prepared to follow, but instead found himself bound. Another black hand, this one much larger then the last two, had wrapped its bony fingers around him, pinning his arms fiercly against his torso. It squeezed tightly, and Eric let out a grunt of pain. The grasp grew even more painful, and struggled as much as he could against the deadly constriction. Suddenly, a thought came to him.

Cire watched as his prey struggled against the dead hand.

"Now, how to kill you. I could let the life be choked out of you, but then, you did put up such a good fight. Hmm, decisions, decisions." He looked on as Eric's struggling began to slow once more, then snapped his fingers. "I've got it. I'll wait until your almost dead, then kill you. That way, I get enjoyment from both choices." Eric looked at his enemy, no words ccoming from his gasping mouth, then his head fell limp.

"I suppose that's long enough," Cire said to himself. Moving in close, he brought his sword next to Eric's neck. "Pleasant dreams," he murmured, then brought his sword back for a swing.

The hand suddenly burst into flame, and Eric shot forward, sword leading. Cire had no time to respond, however, and before he could bring his blade up to block, he felt Eric's own, fiery sword slip easily into his stomach.

Eyes open wide with horrified surprise, Cire dropped his own blade, which disappeared in a cloud of smoke before it hit the ground. A black cloud swirling around him, Cire reached his hand forward and grasped the collar of Eric's armor.

"I..hate.." was all he was able to mutter before he exploded in a flash of smoke and flame.

Eric lowered himself slowly to the ground, his entire body shaking. He had just killed someone. He had just taken a life. What had he done?

"I killed him," Eric murmured as he sat on his knees, looking at the blade in his hands.

"No," Ifrit said, appearing behind him, "You have not killed anyone."

"But didn't you see him? Didn't you watch him die?"

"No," Ifrit answered simply, "I saw you face a personal demon and win."

"A personal demon?"

"Yes," the spirit nodded. He sat down in the air, legs crossed, and hovered lightly in the air. "You see, when you undergo an extreme event in your life that effects you negatively, you may develop a personal demon, some form of the negativity that you can't face or don't want to think about. However, we must all face these demons, especially you. You see, your mind breaks these emotions and gives them separate entities and existences of their own, it's simply the way you are. Because of this, these demons will vie for control, and unfortunately for you, your first one has done a bit of damage; doing much more then it should have been allowed to do."

"What do you mean?"

"You shall see when you awaken. For now, you must get some rest. Things are no longer going to be easy for you, but you must stand firm, and face troubles that come your way."

"Why are you saying all of this? Is something bad going to happen?"

"You're too young to have faced pure hardship, but you will in the future. Your innocence is something very rare, but, like what happened earlier this evening, it will slowly be broken. For this, I am truly sorry. Simply know that myself, as well as any other spirit that you junction to yourself when you use your powers, will always be connected to you, and as long as you have our materia, you can speak with us any time."

"But how-?"

"Get some sleep," was all that Ifrit said, before fading away into the darkness. Eric sighed heavily as he watched his armor fade away. Perhaps Ifrit's right, Eric thought to himself as he laid back. He suddenly felt exhausted, and the moment he laid his head down, sleep overcame him completely.

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Sorry about that guys. Yuffie locked me out of the room. But, Vincent got the door open, and I think he has her polishing his rifle collection. So, how did you like it. Please leave a review, and tell me what you think. 'Till next time, this is VincentValentine13. 


	14. No Other Choice

Wow, it's been awhile. Hope you aren't too upset. Here's the next chapetr, and it took me forever to do too, so I expect a lot of reviews!

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As it settled its long, stalky legs in the shallow water, the heron's eyes followed its prey, the tiny, silver fish, around the small pond. It came to the swamp every morning for its morning catch, and today was no different. The fish suddenly stopped swimming, its tiny eyes open wide, its mouth opening and shutting quickly. The heron edged its beak closer and closer, inch by inch, almost tasting the fish.

A horrified scream ripped through the mists of early morning, startling the heron into flight. Its beating wings sent the fish wild in an attempt to escape its doom. The heron glanced around annoyed as it flew off, frustrated at its loss.

Eric screamed again as he tumbled over his own feet. He landed on his rear, staring with terrified eyes at his clawed hands and silver hair. He clutched at the shimmering strand of hair, and then ran his fingers over the huge wings on his back. His tongue slid across the pointed tips of his fangs before his mouth released another scream.

"What happened to me?" he screamed.

"You underwent another transformation last night," Vincent replied, seeming to appear out of nowhere. "I suggest that you try and remain calm."

"Calm! Calm! How do you expect me to remain calm? I look like a monster!" Eric shouted, jumping to his feet, or trying to, anyway. Because they had always been weightless before, having the extra weight of the wings on his back made it difficult to keep his balance. Falling on the ground once again, he slammed his fists on the ground in frustration. Vincent watched as Eric threw the biggest display of an enraged temper tantrum he had ever seen. Kicking into the air, screaming and flailing for several minutes. When he had finally tired himself out, he stopped, heaving and panting, tears welling up in his reddened eyes.

"Now," Vincent said, unaffected by the show, "Are you finished?" Eric did not respond, not having anything to say. He was not finished, but he was too tired to say or do anything.

"Good, now listen carefully. You need to close your eyes and take a deep breath." Eric did not move at first, but when Vincent repeated his order, Eric obliged, probably more out of his own need to be calm then because Vincent said it. "Now, this transformation took place while you slept last night," Vincent explained quietly, "You looked as if you were having a nightmare. Did you have any dreams last night? Anything at all?"

Eric opened his eyes, their red irises matching Vincent's own color, and stared into Vincent's face. Of course, he dreamed. But was it a dream? This all seemed to be a bit real to have what happened last night classified as just a nightmare.

"I think so," Eric mumbled, trying to recall all that had happened. It all seemed so distant, like a dream would, but he tried to dig up everything he could remember. "Well, first, there was this being," he started. He sat there, and explained everything to Vincent, his meeting with Cire, being rescued by Ifrit, and his battle. Surprisingly, he managed to keep calm, despite his transformation, and his overwhelming fears. Vincent listened, his face not losing his stoic gaze. When Eric finished, Vincent closed his eyes in thought. Silently, he contemplated what he had been told, and Eric fidgeted slightly, looking at his hands, and feeling his wings again.

"They just can't be real," he said quietly, "They just can't. I need to wake up." Vincent rose to his feet slowly, and walked over to where Eric sat. Not saying a word, he reached down and quickly plucked a single feather off Eric's right wing. A small, sharp pain ran through him, and the young man clambered to his feet, his face red with anger.

"What'd you do that for?" he demanded.

"Did I hurt you?" Vincent asked, spinning the feather between his thumb and forefinger.

"Uh, yeah!" Eric answered, trying to rub the spot where the feather had been removed.

"Then I think we've established that this is real," Vincent replied calmly. Eric stood dumbfounded, but slowly, he felt the sickened feeling of despair creep over him.

"So, it's true…" he mumbled to himself, "I really am a monster!" He cried out, fear sinking into his heart, as he slowly yelled out all the things he felt. "What am I going to do? I can't be seen like this! What will people say? What will they think! What will Yuffie say? She'll make fun of me, be scared of me, or maybe even try to kill me! People will hate and fear me! No one will want to be around me!"

"Eric, calm yourself," Vincent said quietly. Eric didn't hear him.

"I'm going to become a wild animal, and live alone in the woods or the mountains!"

"Eric…" Vincent tried again.

"And then I'll slowly sink into madness, and try to eat human flesh, and kill women and children, and-!"

Before Eric could finish, he heard a click. Opening his eyes, which he had shut in his weeping, he saw the barrel of Vincent's rifle in his face. Vincent was looking at him with an annoyed gaze, one that he had given Eric when he had assaulted the man with a dictionary in the Shinra Mansion.

"Now," Vincent said slowly, "Remain quiet, and do not speak again until I instruct you to do so." Eric nodded quickly. "I want you to look into my eyes," he ordered, and Eric found it hard to do. He didn't want to look into them, partially from embarrassment, and partially, from the slight guilt that hung over him from what he tried to do last night. Just the thought of trying to kill Vincent summoned up the sound of Cire's laugh again; Eric left Cire's offer out of his tale.

"Look in my eyes, Eric!" Vincent said, louder, more forcefully, so forcefully that Eric jerked his eyes upward. His newly red irises met Vincent's, and he looked into them for a long time, what seemed like an eternity. At first, he just saw Vincent's serious, almost lordly gaze, like a wise king. After a moment, however, Eric saw below that a sad look, full of sorrow. This is how it happened, each passing moment stripping away each layer of emotion, each sin shown through the man's eyes, and Eric felt their heavy weight. Finally, though, the final emotion, one that seemed almost innocent and joyful, a strange contrast to the sad things that came before it. This slight happiness disappeared, and Eric saw something in his pupils, something moving. Suddenly, the demon he had seen last night seemed to leap straight at Eric, clawing and roaring, and Eric fell back once again. Vincent, his face seeming satisfied, lowered his rifle, and placed it back within it's holster.

"So, you saw him then?"

Eric didn't answer again.

"I see," Vincent said quietly, "As you can see, you are not the only one with personal demons, at least one like yours."

"Vincent," Eric said, rising up and moving closer, his eyes starting to tear up again, "I'm so sorry about last night. I didn't mean to-"

"There is no need for apologies," the gunman interrupted, turning away. Eric, usually not one to force himself on people, ran around in front of the man.

"No, I need to do this. I am sorry for almost killing you," he said, and tears slowly crept down his face, "I'm sorry for getting so angry. I should have known better. I should have understood-"

"You acted as anyone else would have," Vincent said.

"Darn it, Vincent," Eric almost shouted, "stop interrupting me! There was no reason for me to do that. I don't know what happened. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." By now, his voice was trembling, and his soul started to feel heavy. All the emotions that had built up within such a short period suddenly rushed forth. All the anger from last night, the fear from his fight with Cire, the horror of his transformation, and the pity and remorse he developed when he saw his friend's spirit. All of it came out, like a broken dam, and rushed out in the form of the tears falling from his eyes.

"I understand," Vincent said, placing his hand on the young man's shoulder, "And I must say that I am sorry for what I have done to you, all the pain that I have caused you since you were young. I would give anything to bring back your parents, to bring back all the many lives I have destroyed, but that, along with the demon I hold within my heart, are my curses. To know that because of your own cowardice, you have stolen away the most precious thing a person can ever have is perhaps one of the greatest burdens one could be forced to bear."

Eric looked at his friend, a smile on his lips. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but through the pain, Eric knew only one thing. It was the one thing he wanted to say, the one thing that he felt would help both of them feel the shame of the past be lifted.

"Vincent," Eric started slowly, "I…..I….I forgive you." He couldn't believe how easy it was to say them, and how much fear was lifted from him when he spoke those words. In fact, the only way he knew he could say these things truthfully was because of his parents. Something in his heart and been whispering these words of forgiveness ever since Cire was defeated last night, and when he listened closely, the voices were those of his parents. Eric knew that Vincent would never look the same to him, but also knew that forgiveness was probably the greatest gift he could give to Vincent. For all that he had done for him in the short time he had known the man.

Eric couldn't be sure, but he thought he saw that small layer of happiness appear in Vincent's eyes for a moment, before it disappeared again.

"Now," the man said, turning away once again, his cape fluttering in the slight marsh breeze, "About your transformation…."

"What am I going to do? Maybe I should just stay here….become just another beast-"

"Stop acting like a child," Vincent reprimanded, his eyes growing hard again. "Let me ask you something. Do you think me a monster?"

Eric shook his head, not too sure how to answer. "You have a monster in you, but you look normal."

"Precisely," Vincent said, "Now, if I am able to remain human, despite what lives within me, what makes you a monster, when it is only your appearance that would say so?"

"Nothing."

"Then, instead of shedding tears for what cannot be changed, let us instead think of how we can use this to our advantage."

"And how is that?"

"With enough work," Vincent said, "I believe that we could get you in the air."

"What? You mean, like, flying?"

"Don't make me repeat myself…."

"But…but, I hate heights. I passed out on the roller coaster at Gold Saucer, what makes you think I could get up that high again?"

"Necessity," Vincent answered simply. "At this point, we don't have many options for getting out of here. While I have been in these swamps before, crossing them is no easy feat, especially on foot."

"So what should I do?" Eric asked, starting to become intrigued. Maybe flying wouldn't be so bad, he thought to himself. It may even be fun.

"The marshes flow and move wherever the current takes the patches of mud, and saturated areas may have sinkholes. I think, though, that if you were in the air, pointing out the more solid patches, I could make my way across."

Eric looked dumb-founded once again. "You trust me like that?"

"With my life," Vincent answered. Eric smiled again.

"Now, it's time for, as Cid would say, a 'crash course' in flying. I hope you will be able to keep the crash portion to a minimum."

Eric chuckled. Vincent must be feeling better; he thought to himself, he made a joke.

For the next two hours of the morning, Vincent showed Eric the basics of flight. The training was slow, for Vincent had to teach from what he knew, versus actually showing Eric. As difficult as the learning was, it was nothing compared to when it was time for Eric to actually take flight.

"Perhaps we could do this some other way," Eric asked, looking skyward nervously.

"You must," Vincent said simply, "Now go. I do not wish to breath this air any longer, and I am quite certain you do not as well."

Eric nodded, the scent of rotten earth becoming stronger at that moment. Vincent had said that his wings were just like his arms, and that using them was just like moving or breathing. His mind just needed to send a message to his wings, and they would begin to work. Eric imagined the wings spreading out, and felt the muscles and bones attaching them to his back move in response. Envisioning the flapping motions that Vincent had explained, the wings moved, and soon, a current started to lift him into the air. The current grew stronger as he flapped again, and then again, and soon, he had risen a whole six feet in the air. He continued to rise as Vincent watched, and if Eric had been close enough to his friend, he would have been able to see the look of pride in the dark man's eyes.

A smile on his face, Eric pushed himself a little higher, and felt the freedom that comes with being in the open air. He breathed in the clean air, dipped quickly in the lower clouds, letting their cold mists envelope him. It was the most amazing thing he had ever felt, more then being on the road, and more then casting a spell. In his rush, he pushed himself slightly higher then he was comfortable, and after making this startling discovery, he stopped when he realized just how high he was. Lowering himself closer to the ground, he called down to Vincent, trying his best to maintain the image of his wings moving.

"Vincent! I think I'm ready!"

Vincent nodded, and then called back. The words, however, were caught by the wind, so Eric was forced to call out again.

"What!"

"I said….ahead!" Vincent called again, the winds still catching some of his words. Eric guessed that having him repeat himself was probably getting annoying for the man, so he pieced what he said together. Looking ahead, over the vast expanse of marsh, he saw just how much ground there was to cover. Miles of marsh stretched out into the distance, though a thin line of green and gray could be seen in the distance in every direction.

"Just ahead," Eric shouted, "There's a big patch of land. There's lots of grasses and stuff, so I think it's solid."

Vincent nodded, and headed straight forward in the direction Eric pointed, hopping across the small breaks of dirty water. Soon, he reached the land Eric had spoken of, and then looked back up at his guide. Eric's altitude had decreased, a result of his fears, but he still maintained flight.

"Most of it looks like water, except to the south. I see some more land, and what looks like a building or something."

"A building?" Vincent asked himself quietly. Any form of civilization in these marshes was impossible, but perhaps someone had managed to carve out an existence.

Following Eric's flight, Vincent jumped across the swamp, stepping quietly as possible through the thick weeds. The last thing that was needed was a monster finding them. The brown mud stuck to his shoes, and his clothes became tangled once or twice in the thick brush and growth. Eric stopped whenever this happened, and though he offered to help, Vincent always got himself out.

Eric landed after the last tangle, and sighed heavily.

"I'm beat," he huffed, "These wings are so heavy, and it's so hard to breath when flying."

"The air is thinner the higher you go," Vincent explained, "So it would be unwise to try and go too high. How much further is the spot you saw?"

"Just beyond this next water flow, if you can call it that."

"Then let us continue…."

The pair made their way through the brush, but Eric slipped several times, his hold body feeling winded from his first flight.

"We can rest when we get to the next stop," Vincent commented, helping the young man to his feet. He got up slowly, trying not to fall again, and the two proceeded through the grasses.

As they stepped into the clearing in the weeds, they found that the ground was much more solid. The tall plants seemed to be either spread out, or smashed down, like something had pressed them all flat.

"Something has done this," Vincent muttered, "Something large….."

"Like….what?"

"Just-" Vincent started, but stopped when they both turned and saw what Eric had thought was a house. It was a house, but certainly not one used by any human.

The whole thing looked like a pile of rotten logs and weeds, but upon closer examination, the two found that the materials were woven into a swirling pattern, like a serpent curling up on itself.

"It's a nest…" Vincent said, a quiet, almost fearful tone on the edge of his voice. A low hiss came from the bottom of the nest, and Vincent and Eric jumped back at the sound.

As they did, a huge snake with a wide hood appeared from above the rim. It spread its hood, revealing eye-shaped designs underneath. It opened its huge mouth, revealing two sharp fangs, and many other small ones, though they appeared to be just as deadly.

"An anaconduar," Eric whispered out of sheer terror.

The anaconduar stared down on his prey, then turned its gaze towards Eric. Although it had never seen a creature like it, the little thing must have been a bird, for it had two shiny wings on its back. Besides, it was too hungry to pick and choose.

The huge serpent turned to face Eric, and before Vincent could call out a word of warning, the huge monster started to sway its head rhythmically, side to side. Eric stopped, fascinated somehow by the movement, and soon lost himself in the eye patterns on the snake's hood. He heard and felt nothing, not the sound of Vincent calling out to him, and not the feeling of his own feet walking closer towards the nest.

"Eric!" Vincent called out. When the young man didn't respond, and Vincent saw the way he swayed side to side as he walked; he knew that his young friend was in trouble. Without a thought, he rushed forward, tackled the young man just as the huge snake's jaws snapped forward. Eric was flung out of the way, the trance broken, but the jaws of the snake clamped down on the end of Vincent's cape, and the huge serpent swung his victim back and forth.

Vincent felt his stomach start to heave from the movement, but brushed the feeling aside as best he could, and grabbed onto the cape. Using his clawed hand, he punctured a series of holes in the cape, and let force take care of the rest. As the anaconduar swung its head again, the cape ripped along the edge, and Vincent fell free. He soared through the air, landed with a jolt on the ground, rolled two feet, then stood up, slightly disoriented, but no more worse for the wear. Suddenly, the ground below him shifted and sank, and he quickly found himself up to his armpits in mud.

Eric rose up from ground, the trance still fogging his mind slightly. Shaking his head, the smog before his eyes cleared in time to see Vincent's trip. As the gunman sank into the slimy mire, Eric watched the snake hiss, almost in a smug way, then turn back to face his original victim. Its hood spread wide again, and it once again began its hypnotic dance.

"Fool me once," Eric shouted to the monster, darting to the side, his eyes clamped shut. Turning away from the snake, Eric looked over to Vincent, who was trying his best to pull himself out of the muck. Eric realized, in that moment, he had a choice. He could leave, escape on his own, and leave Vincent there. He could be safe and sound, while the man got what he deserved. But, once again, Eric heard the laugh of Cire in his mind, and brushed aside the thought. He dove across the ground and slid on his belly towards the trapped Vincent. By this time, the anaconduar, seeing that its hypnosis had failed miserably, slid out of its nest, and towards the two. Its tongue wiggled as its sensitive taste buds tested the air, searching for its prey.

"Vincent," Eric practically shouted, his fear for them both evident on his face, "What are we going to do!" Vincent didn't answer. Instead, he mumbled something inaudible, and continued to simply looked forward, his eyes blank and empty, and his head moving slightly from side to side. From his expression, Eric could guess exactly what was going on. Resisting the urge to look up, he tried to awaken his friend with a few slaps to the side of his face, but to no avail.

Eric could think of only one solution, and with Vincent entranced and shoulder-deep in mud, it was the only real option available. Slipping his arms under Vincent's, and setting his feet in the most secure position on a solid piece of land, he pulled as hard as he could. Vincent's body seemed to lift slightly, but no farther. The anaconduar, seeing its moment of triumph, started to slither forward once again.

"Ifrit, lend me your strength," Eric cried out as he pulled again. Suddenly, the materia on his belt began to glow, and a voice echoed in his mind.

"But of course."

Eric felt his entire being course with energy, and he gave his wings one more flap. He flew into the air, with Vincent in his grasp, and the mud making a horrible, slurping sound as the two rose upward. They shot straight up, farther then even the anaconduar could reach. Eric took a moment to catch his breath and looked around. They were in the air, safe and sound. Not wanting to waste the moment of energy, he flew straight for the green fields that lay before them.

The cold air rushing by as they soared through the sky, Vincent groaned as he came out of his hypnotic state. Eric looked down and waited for Vincent to become startled by his surrounding, but was disappointed when he saw Vincent react stoically to the whole thing.

"Glad to see you're aright," Eric said to his friend.

"Likewise," Vincent replied.

"You're actually pretty light," Eric commented, "Do you eat properly?"

"Now is hardly the time," Vincent answered, his eyes narrowing as he tried to look ahead. "There, there's the edge of the marsh," he pointed out, "Land down there."

Eric nodded and swooped down to the expanse of fields that ran next to the marsh.

Setting down in Chocobo Fields, Eric placed Vincent lightly on the ground, then folded his wings as he landed completely. When he turned to look at his friend, he suddenly burst out in laughter.

Vincent was covered in mud. His shoes were almost completely off, his hair was matted with filth, and his cape was tattered and caked with muck. Eric couldn't stop laughing, for it was strange to see Vincent, usually one who kept a tidy appearance, looking so filthy. Vincent simply glared at the young man, and that look was enough to silence Eric.

"I'm sorry, Vincent," Eric sighed, trying to cover his giggles, "But it's just so funny."

"You shouldn't be laughing at appearances," Vincent countered, "For was it not you who was mourning over your looks not two hours ago?"

"Touché," Eric nodded, feeling guilty. "So, what now?"

"Now we head north, towards Midgar."

"Midgar?"

"How many times must I ask you to not make me repeat myself?"

Eric wanted to say that Vincent had just repeated himself, but decided it unwise, and decided to say instead, "But, should we really be going back to the place the Turks were trying to take me?"

"No, of course it's not," Vincent answered, to Eric's surprise, "But we have no other choice."

Eric sighed as he followed the man quietly. His whole life, and especially after meeting Vincent, seemed to revolve around that phrase.

"No other choice," Eric mumbled to himself. He could only wonder when choices would no longer be a rare luxury for him.

The two walked on, neither one saying much of anything. As the sun began to set, and the black outline of Midgar appeared on the horizon, Vincent turned to Eric, his red eyes showing a hint of gratitude.

"I wanted to thank you, for once again saving my life," he said quietly.

"Well, you said you trusted me with your life, right? I didn't want to betray that. Besides, you saved mine, like, five seconds earlier."

"Indeed, but you did not have too. You could have ran, which is why I feel the need to thank you."

Eric didn't realize it at the moment, but Vincent saw more then just Eric rescuing him. Vincent saw that Eric had at least given up on ideas of revenge. He did not think that Eric would kill him himself, but he could have easily allowed the anaconduar to do that for him. For that, he was eternally grateful, and he silently whispered a promise. A promise he had made only once before, to the woman he loved. A promise that he had been unable to fulfill. A promise to protect Eric, no matter the cost. He owed a life debt, a debt that he intended to repay with his own life if it ever came to that.

Suddenly, the sound of a helicopter's propellers filled the air. Eric ducked as Vincent reached for his rifle. But, as luck would have it, it was not in its holster. In fact, the holster was not there either. He looked down at his mud-caked pants and came to a terrible conclusion. When he had fallen in the mud, and when Eric pulled him out, it must have come off. He wasn't sure how, but it must have. And as the chopper came closer, and both he and Eric saw the Shinra symbol printed on the door, he knew that this was certainly not an agreeable situation.

As the propellers started to slow, and the doors popped open, Vincent almost released a small gasp of surprise.

"Vincent? Vincent, is that you?" Tifa Lockheart called as she climbed out of the helicopter.


	15. Bad Blood In A Bad City

So, this the next chapter. We're closing in on the end here, ladies and gentlemen, and don't worry, Yuffie will be coming back. What's that? Sorry, Vincent made one of those sighing sounds...I wish he wouldn't do that. Anyway, enjoy the next installment!

Before we start, I would like to give a special shout out to some of my readers!

First, to VirgosDragonVine, for her endless support and input...thanks Victoria! Second, a shout out to my best readers, marinawings, who was my first fan, and then my next three, Tolea, yoku-ishiand Any-More-Cheese! Thanks to all you guys for your constant reviews, and for allowing me to have a hand in your own writings. Domon arigato!

Now then, on with the story!

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"And so that brings us here," Vincent said in conclusion. His audience, Cloud Strife, a man with a shock of spiked, blonde hair and green eyes that seemed to glow, and his wife, Tifa Lockheart, now known as Tifa Strife, listened carefully to the tale. Cloud threw a glance over to Eric, who sat with his head down, his silver hair falling over his face and his black wings draped heavily over him.

"So, he used to be human then?" Cloud asked, turning back to Vincent. Eric looked up at the three of them, quietly listening. After the initial introductions outside of Midgar, Tifa took the pair back to the city. They were now sitting in "Cloud Nine," a small tavern owned by the Strife couple. Both Tifa and Cloud's initial reaction to Eric was as he expected it to be, with both giving him strange, suspicious glances. However, after Vincent explained the situation, they seemed to have a change of demeanor, and looked at him with pity.

Personally, Eric would have preferred suspicion.

"How terrible," Tifa said, shaking her head. "To think that anyone should have to go through something like that…and you said he was orphaned at a young age?"

"Indeed," Vincent nodded, and Eric looked once again at the man. His eyes were cold, emotionless, as usual, but Eric could not help but notice that Vincent had left out the details of how Eric had become an orphan in the first place. This did not bother Eric, for he had already started to recover from that shock. Instead, it made him see that Vincent kept secrets, even with his closest friends.

"Well," Cloud said, rising to his feet, "It seems you both have had quite a journey." He smiled now, the grave look in his eyes vanished, while a young, kind look replaced it. "Now, why don't I show you guys to a spare room?"

"I believe I could use a bath somewhat urgently," Vincent added quietly, looking down at his mud-caked clothes as he rose from his own chair.

"You should be careful, Vincent," Tifa laughed, "Or some might find you vain, the way you feel about your appearance. After all, appearances aren't everything."

"But they certainly matter a great deal in the long run," Vincent replied.

"True," Tifa agreed with another, quiet laugh. She started to stand up when she let out a slight sigh and sat back down. Cloud rushed to her side to help her up.

"Are you alright?" Cloud asked, "You know the doctor said to be careful."

"Doctor?" Vincent asked, his voice sounding slightly curious.

"Didn't we tell you?" Cloud asked, turning back to his friend.

"No, no," Tifa smiled, "We shouldn't tell Vincent. He's always been secretive, so I think we deserve to have one of our own."

Vincent did not say anything and the look on his face made Eric want to laugh himself. Vincent seemed at a loss. It was not apparent in his face, but his eyes betrayed a slight pout, as if he wanted to know, but certainly did not appreciate the teasing.

"Very well," Vincent replied, simply, nodding as he turned, "I shall simply find the bathroom on my own."

"Oh, don't pout, Vincent," Tifa said, placing her hand on his shoulder, "If you want to know, we'll tell you."

Vincent turned back around after a moment, the look in his eyes returning to normal.

Tifa giggled slightly with delight as Cloud walked up beside her, "Vincent…..I'm four months pregnant!"

"Pregnant?" Vincent asked, not seeming surprised in the least, "I must say that does come as news….for I certainly would not have been able to guess it, looking at you now."

"Yes, well, the doctor said there might be a drastic change, or there might not, but regardless, in five months, I will give birth to my first child."

"We've already made a room for the baby," Cloud added, a look of fatherly pride in his vibrant, green eyes. Eric smiled at the three. It seemed to him that, despite how desperate things had seemingly grown, he could still find happiness, even in a place like Midgar. He smiled slightly, and felt better almost immediately.

"It's nice to smile, don't you think?" he heard Shiva's voice ask. He just nodded in agreement.

Cloud led Vincent upstairs to the living quarters of the tavern, while Tifa led Eric into the kitchen.

"You must be hungry," she asked, going towards the fridge. "I made these a few days ago, but no one's really touched them." She reached in a pulled out a plate of sugar cookies. Eric was glad to see the sweet treat, for cookies had always been one of his favorites, and it seemed so long since the last time he had one.

"Here you are," his hostess said, setting the plate down in front of him, "I hope you like them." Eric picked up one, and bit into it with a smile. Very quickly, however, he learned why no one else would eat them. They were hard, much harder then any cookie he had had before, and instead of the usual sweet taste of sugary goodness, Eric's taste buds were assaulted by a horrible, salty taste. Trying his best not to cough in front of the kind woman, he forced a smile as best he could.

"You like them then?" she asked, a slight sparkle in her eyes. Eric swallowed hard, forcing down the urge to vomit, and just kept looking at Tifa with same, stupid smile.

"No good, huh?" she asked, still smiling, but her eyes falling slightly. "Well, it has been a while, so I guess I shouldn't expect perfection…"

"Well, I guess it's not really my place," Eric said, placing down the lethal cookie and looking back up, "But perhaps you're using too much salt?"

"Hhm….you may be right," Tifa nodded.

"If I may be so bold," Eric started, "But, I think I need to ask you something…"

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm not too sure how to ask this, but…how is it that you came to accept me? I mean, I'm not exactly the nicest looking person on earth."

Tifa looked into his eyes for a moment, her own, brown eyes searching for an answer. After a moment, she began to twirl a lock of her thick, chocolate hair, and then stopped.

"I think that a lot of it had to do with Vincent." Eric looked at her curiously. Tifa just smiled and nodded, "Yes, Vincent. You see, I have spent a good deal of time with him. In fact, I was one of the first to meet him when we found him in the Shinra mansion."

"So, he hadn't just been living there this entire time?"

"No, he had accompanied us in our fight against Shinra and then Sephiroth, but you see when we first found him, he wasn't as cordial as he is today."

"Cordial?" Eric asked, looking slightly shocked, "If that's cordial, then I would hate to run into him when he's angry."

Tifa just laughed and replied, "Yes, he certainly is a bit foreboding, but when we first met, we had found that he had sealed himself in a coffin in the basement of the Shinra Mansion."

"What?" Eric asked, thoroughly surprised. He had always thought Vincent was strange, but certainly not that strange. "You mean I've been traveling with a vampire?"

"Vincent is no vampire," Tifa said, her voice growing suddenly serious, as if the very thought was offensive, "He was just….overwhelmed."

"What do you mean?"

"He has never been very clear on the subject of his past, and usually would go off in one of his black moods if I tried to bring it up, but I know the reason for his self-punishment, as he would call it, was because of his guilt."

"But why a coffin?"

Tifa sighed heavily, "I think that Vincent could explain that better then I could….and I don't think he would like me telling you anyway. He's always been like that."

Eric's head dropped as he thought it over. Tifa was right, whether Eric like it or not. Perhaps he should try asking Vincent about it. It was doubtful that the man would tell him, if he would not even tell his closest friends.

"Can you keep a secret?" Tifa asked, leaning in closer. A mischievous look was in her eyes, and it made Eric feel better about the situation.

"Of course," Eric nodded, "What is it and who do we keep it from?"

"Well, Cloud knows, but don't tell Vincent…"

"Alright," Eric nodded again.

"Now, we've already decided on names for the baby. If it's a girl, we want to name her Aerith, a small tribute to a friend, but if we have a boy, we want to name him……Vincent."

Eric chuckled slightly, amused by the idea.

"What?" Tifa asked, pretending to be hurt, "What's so funny?"

"Well, can you imagine what Vincent would say? He be all like, 'That would be an unwise idea'," Eric said, mocking Vincent's unemotional monotone. "Perhaps you should name him after Cloud, because he has so much more then me, and I would hate to burden your child with anything related to my legacy……."

Tifa did not say anything for a moment, and then suddenly burst out laughing. "That's just like Vincent!"

"What's so funny?" Cloud asked, coming around the corner into the kitchen. He glanced down at the two, and then the plate of cookies on the table.

"Oh no," he cried in mock horror, "You didn't eat some of her cookies?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tifa shot back playfully.

"I mean, your cookies could kill a cactuar."

This continued for a while, the two throwing back banter, and Eric sitting in between, laughing quietly. The couple was so nice, and they had such a sweet relationship. I wonder if this is what mom and dad were like. He wondered to himself.

"To produce a child like you," he heard Shiva whisper, "They must surely have been good people…"

"Or you just happened to grow up that way on your own…" he heard Ifirit counter.

"Why must you say such things?" Shiva hissed at the other voice.

"I only wish to keep things in perspective…."

Eric just rolled his eyes. "Listen you guys," Eric said, somewhat hesitantly. He did not want to irritate or anger the two powerful beings, but he just couldn't have the two bickering in his head. "If, um, you guys are going to argue, could you please, uh, take it out of my head?"

The two voices fell silent for a moment, but Eric could still feel their presence in his mind. Suddenly, both the presences were gone.

Eric decided to head upstairs, and try to find the spare room. He looked down the hall, but was worried about opening any doors, for fear of something private being shown. Finally though, at the end of the wooden hallway, he heard a voice, Vincent's voice. Eric, curious about who the man was talking to, got down on his knees and peered through the slight crack where the door was open and watched.

Vincent sat on one of the beds, looking at something in his palm. He looked strange, because he was wearing a simple black t-shirt and and jeans. As strange as this was, the fact that he was talking to himself was even stranger.

"Lucrecia," he said quietly, "I never thought I would return here, to Midgar…I suppose I should have guessed that this city would not let me be, even after its demise…Still, it is a relief to know that those who have caused so many people pain are finally realizing just what they have done…and yet they still continue to do as they please. But I digress….I only wished to speak with you again. I miss you dearly my love, and with what tomorrow being what it is, I fear that I will lose myself, and be unable to speak with you….still, I shall make sure to carry out my usual tradition, though….I promise you…"

Eric didn't move or even breath. It was obvious that Vincent was "talking" to a love, probably that woman he had mentioned a long while back. But what was tomorrow, their anniversary? Eric couldn't be sure, but as he started to stand, he heard Vincent say something else quietly.

"If you are finished eaves-dropping, you may enter, Mr. Constantine…."

"How does he do that?" Eric whispered to himself as he sheepishly opened the door.

"Sorry about that, Vincent," Eric said quietly, as he stepped into the room. Vincent didn't respond, but simply motioned for him to shut the door. Eric did as he was instructed, then turned back to Vincent, his head down. He knew Vincent was not going to be pleased, but still felt bad. Now Vincent would never answer his question.

The man didn't say anything, and for several moments, though it felt much longer to Eric, a horribly uncomfortable silence pervaded the room. Finally, Eric worked up enough courage to ask, "So, how did you know I was out there?"

"The moment you knelt down outside the door….I could here your wings rustling."

"And yet you went on with what you were saying…..why?"

"To show you that, despite the unwanted interruptions of the world, Mr. Constantine, sometimes one must press on with anything that means a great deal to you."

"I'm sorry, Vincent, didn't realize-"

"Of course you didn't. You never do! You are so naïve that you believe that the world is centered about yourself and your problems. You think that you everyone else lives as you do, and that the only one who has any problems in his life is you!" Vincent voice had grown to a louder tone, louder then Eric had ever heard it. It seemed fierce, as if it wasn't even him speaking.

"I said I was sorry!" Eric snapped back, not realizing his own voice was growing in volume. "How was I supposed to know you were wanting some privacy?"

"Because…" Vincent said, his voice growing low, almost menacing, "I have been asking for you to leave me be since the first time you entered into the Shinra Mansion…..and yet, as perceptive as you may believe yourself to be, you have yet to see that I do not enjoy your company, nor do I wish to have you hanging on me like a dog who follows his master!"

Eric was speechless, completely unable to think of any kind of response. He thought that Vincent liked him at least, and he had told Tseng so. Evidently he was wrong.

"You….you…you think you're so high and mighty!" Eric spat back, losing control of his mouth, "You tell me to think about others! Why don't you practice what you preach, MR. Valentine? You sit all day brooding about things that have happened in the past, and then take it out on other people! That's vile behavior! I've tried to put up with it, because I actually thought you were cool! I looked up to you, Vincent!" At this, his face started to turn a bright red, and he fought hard against tears again. "I wanted to….I don't know, be like you! You seemed so smart and cool, but now I'm not too sure at all! You called me naïve? Well, you know what I see in you right now! All I see is a spoiled little boy, pretending to be an adult, and who thinks only about himself!"

Vincent didn't say anything as Eric finished his rant. The man's eyes were glowing ferosciously, and his breathing was slightly quicker then usual.

"Get….out!" he growled, his voice sounding like he would have liked nothing more at that moment to leap across the room, tackle Eric, and rip of his face. However angry Eric may have been at the moment, he knew that he had overstepped his boundaries by leaps and bounds, and that it would be best to get out of the reach of Vincent's wrath. He ran out the door, down the stairs and out of the bar, slamming the front door behind him. He stormed down the path that wound around the bar and went straight forward, into the city; not a single thought of who saw him or how other people felt about him crossed his mind.

Of course, no one can go very far in any new place, especially one like Midgar, without becoming lost; this is, of course, exactly what Eric found himself doing.

"Vincent," Tifa said, knocking lightly on the door. In her hands was his normal clothes, neatly folded and fresh from the drier, and she had come up to give them back to Vincent. She had heard raised voices earlier, and saw Eric go storming out of the building, his face red and his wings fluttering angrily. Still, she decided, from past expiriences, that it would be best to leave Vincent alone for a while. She waited until his clothes were done, then plucked up enough courage to approach him.

"Vincent," she said again, knocking on the wooden door again. When the door opened slightly by itself, she pushed it open and walked in slowly.

Vincent was once again on his bed, staring into space it seemed, and a cold, empty gaze met Tifa's when she leaned over to get his attention.

"Hey, Vincent, you okay?" she asked, leaning over so her face was in his line of sight. Vincent didn't respond, except a simple blink, as if he had just woken up. Tifa took this momentt of recovery to place his clothes next to the distracted man.

"I said, are you okay?" Tifa repeated, and this time, Vincent just sighed heavily. "Okay, I can see you're in one of those moods, so why don't I ask the questions, and you just pretend to care, okay?" she asked, smiling slightly. Still no response.

"So, what's bothering you?" she asked.

To this question, she knew there would be no answer, or at least she expected that, so it came as a surprise when Vincent turned to her and said, "Tifa…do you know what tomorrow is?"

Tifa thought for a moment, trying to recall anything that seemed important about tomorrow. When she could think of nothing personally, she decided to take it from Vincent's perspective. This time, she remembered.

"Oh, tomorrow's the day, right….when she…when you have…" Tifa could not find the proper words to say what it was. She knew what the day was. She had first seen Vincent mention this two years ago, during their journey together when they had returned to Midgar. She also recalled Vincent returning to Midgar at this same time last year, and when she recalled what tomorrow was, it caused her to shed a tear.

Tomorrow was the day Lucrecia, Vincent's one and only love, was declared dead.

"It has been thirty-two years…." Vincent said quiietly, "Thirty-two years of hearing nothing but her silent voice in my mind…."

"Vincent…are you going to be alright?" Tifa asked, gently laying her hand on the man's shoulder. She knew then that he must have been deeply upset, for he didn't make any motion to say that he did not want her touching him, as he had done with anyone under normal circumstances.

"I do not know anymore," he answered honestly, "For I barely know my self anymore…..At any other time, I suppose I would I was fine, but very recently, many things have changed that feeling…"

"Like what?" Tifa asked, her brown eyes full of concern for her friend. She had seen Vincent melancholy before, but never like this. It was as if the cold exterior was stripping away, to reveal a broken man underneath.

"Vincent….I heard you….I heard you growing angry up here at Eric. What was that all about?"

Vincent said nothing, but turned to look at Tifa for the first time since their conversation had began. When he did, Tifa felt her heart break, for Vincent very face showed a pitiable countenance, the sad look of a child, almost, who has broken a vase, and is still dumbfounded that it had happened.

"I never told you how Eric became an orphan…did I?" he said slowly.

"No, no you didn't," Tifa replied, and felt her stomach tightening. She could almost feel where this was going, and she didn't like it one bit.

"Stupid Vincent," Eric said, kicking idly at the street, "How dare he call me naïve? If I was so naïve, I would have left him in that bog, and ran like a little kid. I didn't though….stupid Vincent!" He saw a tin can lying crushed on the side of the street and he kicked it hard, sending it richocheting into a wall down an allyway. He sighed heavily and continued walking.

Suddenly, he looked up again. Glancing around, he saw that the street was empty; rather strange for a big city like Midgar. Even if it had been totaled, it had been two years since then, so surely there must have been some kind of life, right?

"Great, now I'm lost and alone…" he mumbled, "Plus Vincent's angry at me. Can this day get any better?" The question was a rhetorical one, so when he got an answer, it made him jump.

"Of course it can," a woman's voice said from behind him. Eric turned to see Shiva stnding before him.

"Shiva! Don't do that!" he said, still startled.

"I am sorry," she replied, "I did not realize you did not want an answer."

"Well, I kinda did want and answer, though I didn't expect one. But what do you mean that it can get better? It hasn't exactly been all that great of a start?"

"Well, you are still alive, for one," the icy woman replied, "And you have arrived here safely."

"But I still look like a demon, like Cire…" Eric mumbled.

"Something that will end as well," another voice said. Eric turned to see a burst of flame appear out of thin air, though it gave off no heat. Then, when it had vanished, there stood Ifrit, his dark face and grave orange eyes framed by his orange, tangled hair.

"What do you mean by that?" Eric asked, starting to grow tired with always having to ask for explainations.

"I mean, the power of Cire is not boundless, and the transformation will eventually end."

"But when? I can't stand being this way! I look like a monster….and a cruel one at that."

"But, have you not still found happiness, even in your discomfort?" Shiva asked, hinting at something.

Eric thought it over for a moment, then looked into the blue eyes of the ice goddess. That was when he remembered the only thing that had given him any joy in this new look.

"Well, I will admit that flying was amazing…" he said quietly. As much as he didn't want to admit that the transformation had done him any good, he couldn't deny that it hadn't.

"Besides…" Shiva added, "Have you actually examined yourself in a mirror?"

"Why? I don't want to see myself looking the way I am. If I look like Cire, then it must be horrible."

Ifrit shook his head. "That is not necessarily true. You are only judging by what you saw, and that was a twisted being. You are not Cire, therefore, your appearance is different, even if he was your reflection."

Eric nodded, not truly understanding, but wanting to get off the subject. He started to walk forward, not really thinking about the pair behind him.

"Don't you think you should try to head back?" Shiva asked, coming up beside him.

"It is growing dark," Ifrit added, "And you are in the city of Shinra. Do you think it wise to be wandering around the city when you are being searched for?"

"They don't know I'm here…" Eric mumbled, but he knew they were right. "Even if I wanted to, I'm lost."

Shiva just laughed. It was the first time Eric had heard either of the two laugh, and to him, the lady's laughter sounding like icicles when they are tapped against each other.

"I don't think it's very funny," Eric said, "I mean, it's fine for you, 'cause you're not being hunted."

"So, now you admit that you are being sought," Ifrit said, in more of a statement then a question.

"Yeah," Eric agreed. "But that still doesn't help my situation any."

"Well, if you had let me finish," Shiva said, a sounding slightly annoyed, "The I could have told you that while you were not paying attention to where you were going, both Ifrit and myself were. We shall be your guides back."

Eric smiled as the two walked ahead of him. At least there were people, even if they were not necessarily human, that cared about him.

* * *

Well, that's that. I hope it was okay...I don't think I liked it all that much, but that was only because it was kind of a filler. Still, leave lots and lots of reviews! 


	16. Was It Something I Said?

Well, we're one step closer to the end, and things are getting rather interesting. Talk about drama! Vincent and Eric getting into a tiff and all. Well, there's only one thing to say, and that that someone is going to make a reappearance, someone who left a while ago is coming in for a visit!

* * *

"There you are," Tifa sighed as Eric walked back through the door, "I was starting to get worried!"

"I'm sorry," Eric said quietly, "I needed…some time to cool off."

"I understand," Tifa replied, smiling slightly. "Still, I've been waiting here for you to get back. We've got dinner on the table."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Eric apologized. He didn't think that he had been gone that long, but when he looked from the warm light of the kitchen around the corner, to the dark sky outside, he realized that his little trip had taken a bit more time then he had thought.

"Well, there's no point in standing here," she said cheerfully, "Let's get in there and eat!"

Eric shared in her smile, especially when he heard his stomach growl in agreement. He followed the woman into the kitchen and saw that Cloud had just placed the last plate. Spread across the table was one of the most welcoming sights Eric had seen in a long time.

One plate was stacked with hamburgers, some with cheese, some without. Next to it was a bowl of baked beans, and next to that was a bowl of macaroni and cheese. Each plate had a tall glass of ice tea next to it, with several ice cubes floating around in it. The entire layout was astounding, for Eric had not seen anything like it since he had first run from Shinra. His mouth began to water as the smells flowed to his nose, and his hosts smiled widely.

"We figured you and Vincent both deserved something nice after your ordeals," Cloud explained.

At the mention of Vincent, Eric was jerked from the food fantasy and reminded of his anger. It had decreased over his walk home, but he still felt somewhat bitter towards the man for his behavior.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble," Eric replied, trying to cover his thoughts.

"No trouble at all," Tifa replied, motioning for Eric to sit, "You both deserve it. I know Vincent hasn't eaten something like this in quite sometime, and it sounded like you hadn't either."

"Well, thank you," Eric said, surveying the food again. He looked up at the couple who had known him so little, and, despite his appearance, had accepted him warmly into their home. The thought of it made him feel so at home, and so loved that he actually felt one tear in his eye. It had been years since he had felt this; the feeling that he got from his parents.

The three sat and ate, laughing and talking about different things; some weren't very important, some had almost no purpose. Eric drank it all up, enjoying every moment of the happy dinner, savoring every scrap of conversation. It was wonderful to feel like he was part of a family again. Suddenly, he came to a realization.

"Um, Tifa….where's Vincent?"

Tifa fell silent for a moment, her smile disappearing from her eyes, though her lips still turned upwards. "He….he won't be joining us this evening…"

"Oh," Eric sighed, feeling slightly disappointed. He was rather curious, if nothing else, as to how Vincent would respond in a warm situation like this one.

Tifa lowered her fork and turned to fully face Eric. "Vincent….Vincent explained what happened, what he said when he yelled at you….I honestly believe he's sorry."

"Then why doesn't he tell me himself?" Eric asked, getting slightly frustrated.

"Well, Vincent's not one to apologize for something he deems….small," Cloud explained. Eric didn't think this was a good reason at all, but said nothing.

"There's another reason," Tifa added, looking at her husband then back at the young listener. "You see, Vincent explained why you're an orphan to me….he told me what happened and what he did."

"He did….?" Eric asked, surprised that Vincent would say anything like that to someone.

"Yes," Tifa nodded, "And he does feel sorry for that….but there's something about you, I think, that caused that behavior."

"Me?" Eric asked, almost jumping out of his seat. He had done nothing wrong, well mostly nothing wrong, and yet the man exploded at him.

"Not on purpose," the woman said, realizing she had upset Eric, "It's nothing you've done on purpose…..it's just…well, it's just you."

"Okay, now I'm really confused," Eric replied, "I thought it wasn't me?"

Tifa stopped for a moment, and Eric could see in her eyes that she was torn on what to say. Cloud must have noticed this as well, so he explained.

"You know how Vincent has regrets, right?"

Eric nodded.

"He bears a lot of pain, and he mourns his past, for everything he did and didn't do." Cloud said quietly.

"Well, he told me," Tifa continued, "That, well he said this. 'Through most of my life, I have done many things I am not proud of. Still, the only time I am forced to relive those moments is when my own mind brings them to the surface. In Eric's case, it is something entirely different.'" Tifa paused here, as if preparing herself mentally for the end. "'With Eric, when I learned what I had done, I naturally felt the pain and guilt that normally came when one of my memories was dredged up. Unfortunately, it does not lose its sting, like the others eventually do. In other cases, very little outside sources recall my past for me, but every time I see Eric, especially now in the shape he is in, I am forced to repeatedly recall the past. I keep seeing his parent's fear, their horror as I approached. I relive that moment when I pulled the trigger every time I see him….'."

The room took on an heavy silence when Tifa finished. Eric processed it as best he could, thinking slowly over everything Tifa had told him. So, Vincent is upset at me, not because of something I had done, but because of what I…represent? I'm a….a bad symbol? Eric couldn't get through his mind the idea that he was an object to Vincent. Not while he excused himself from the table, not while he went upstairs, and not as he got into one of the spare beds. His wings dropped over him heavily as he sighed and closed his eyes, trying to find some peace in sleep.

Eric jerked awake. He pushed himself up (he had been lying on his stomach because the wings made it uncomfortable to sleep on his back), and looked around the dark room. Something was in here, he knew it. The window was open, and the white curtains blew gently. A single ray of moonlight shone through the opening, but it was enough to illuminate the room. As he looked around again, he saw Vincent, leaning calmly against the wall near the window.

"Vincent?" he asked, sitting up fully, "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to wake up," he answered simply. Though there was light from the window, Vincent was almost a silhouette, and the only part of his face Eric could see were his crimson eyes. "There is something that I must show you…."

"It's the middle of the night," Eric responded, yawning and stretching his arms. His wings did likewise, without him meaning for them to, he stopped when he realized they had opened of their own accord.

"It seems you are growing more accustomed to your change," Vincent commented as Eric folded the feathery attachments.

"Yeah, they're not so bad," he answered, but then looked up at Vincent. "Hey, Vincent, look, I'm sorry for interrupting your 'alone time'. I really didn't mean to."

Vincent did not reply, but simply approached the young man. "You must get out of bed," he said, "Time is of the essence, so we must hurry."

"Hurry for what?" Eric asked, stepping onto the wooden floor of the room.

"Just get on your shoes and come with me…" was all Vincent said, before he walked over to the window and jumped easily through. Eric rushed over when he saw the man disappear over the sill, but sighed with relief when he saw Vincent land with cat-like grace below in the moonlight. Then, without a word, the man walked silently towards the city, the only sound coming from his cape as it billowed gently in the breeze.

Eric threw on his shoes as best he could. The whole thing had a dream-like quality to it, as if it were nothing more then an illusion. Still, after he finished with his shoes he walked over to the window, ready to try his hand at the jump. It wasn't that high up, so he should be able to easily jump out and use his wings as a way to slow his fall. He got onto the sill, and closed his eyes, ready for the plunge.

Eric crept as silently as he could out the front door of the bar, deciding that it would be better to not break a limb and have to run a bit to catch up with Vincent, then to hurt himself and not get to see where the man was leading him.

The night air was cold, a sign of autumn, and the moon was bright and full. It was a beautiful sight to behold, and Eric felt his breath get pulled away by the wonderful, silver sight.

Turning his attention back to Vincent, who looked like no more then a red streak against the black buildings, he rushed to catch up.

"Vincent, wait for me!" he called out in a hoarse whisper as he got a few feet behind the man.

"Try to remain quiet," Vincent replied, "We do not want to wake all of Midgar…"

"I wasn't being that loud…" Eric mumbled, but when Vincent turned his head back ever-so-slightly, Eric knew the man was giving him a look, and decided to remain silent.

They walked on in this manner, Vincent leading Eric down both broad and narrow streets. All of them seemed relatively new, and there wasn't as much trash along the roads as he would have guessed for a place like Midgar. He was about to ask Vincent about it when the man stopped.

"What is it?" Eric asked, the feathers of his wings ruffling slightly in apprehension.

"We are near," Vincent answered. He turned back to Eric, and in the moonlight that peaked through the buildings, Eric thought he saw a tiny fragment of something shiny on the edge of Vincent's eye. As he stood there, Eric saw that it was a small, diamond-like tear.

"I want you to know, Eric, that what you will see may or may not make you happy. I care not, really, how it affects you emotionally. I only want you to know that this is something I felt led to do, something I feel you must see…..are you prepared?"

"Well, I can't prepare if I don't know-"

"Are you prepared?" Vincent asked again, calmly but forcefully all the same.

"Yes," Eric nodded, unsure of what else to do. Vincent looked at him for another moment, then turned and walked forward towards a gate.

The gates were made of iron, with sharp, metal bars going up, and with two brick walls that held up the hinges of the doors. Vincent opened it slowly, and it made a scraping sound as its bottom scratched against the pavement, before falling silent when it ran over the grass behind it.

"This is the Shinra Cemetery…." Vincent said, walking through the gate. Eric trailed behind slowly, not sure he wanted to follow the man.

After all, Vincent had sealed himself in a coffin before.

"This is where Shinra employees and their family members are buried when they die. As you can imagine, it is quite extensive, though only the bodies of the higher ranking Shinra rest here…."

Eric looked around the area, and saw that Vincent was right. Many tombstones and grave plaques and even a few crypt here and there were spread around the area that was walled in by the brick barriers, and just the thought of that many bodies gave Eric the shivers.

"So why are we here?" Eric asked, shuddering again.

"There is something you need to see here….." Vincent paused for a moment, then turned back to Eric. "In the far corner, there are more graves. Head all the way to the back…..that is all."

Eric said nothing, for he thought he had pieced together what was going on. He walked slowly back, along a a small, brick path that meandered amongst the tombstones, until he reached the place Vincent had pointed out. Then, in the ray of moonlight, he saw what he knew would be there all along.

The tombstones of Victor and Lydia Constantine.

Eric rushed to the site, kneeling before the solemn, gray markers. He did not know whether to cry, or laugh, or smile or frown. It was as if, despite them lying under the ground, cold and lifeless, he had finally been reunited with them.

"Mom!" he cried, "Dad! I'm here! I'm here! It's me, Eric! I finally found you guys!" He fell between them, one hand on the top of either stone, his head hanging down as he wept over them. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long, guys…" he whispered, "I couldn't find you. They wouldn't let me…..but now I'm here, and we're together again…" He fell silent as the cold air blew his silver hair gently. Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. He had never really thought about whether he would ever come here or not, but now, he was glad he had the opportunity. He looked to the two stones, the only remainder of his parents and sighed, almost in a content way, then stood up.

"I'll…I'll never forget you, mom and dad. I promise….I'm sorry I don't look like the son you left behind…I understand if you're ashamed of me, but….but I love you guys…I will make you proud, even if I'm stuck like this.."

"They would be very proud of you…" Eric turned to see Vincent standing a few feet behind him. The man held the same look he always had, though it didn't seem quite as stark as it normally did.

"Thank you," Eric replied with a small smile. He turned back to the headstones. "Mom, dad, this is Vincent…he's been taking care of me recently. I know he looks kinda harsh, but he's cool…" He said the last word quietly, as he remembered what he had told Vincent earlier. "Vincent, I…I'm sorry for what I said….I was upset, because I didn't understand what you were going through…"

"And you do now?" Vincent asked. He seemed to Eric to be slightly interested in Eric's answer, so Eric thought it would be best to make it a good one.

"Well, a little….Tifa told me what you said, about what I symbolize to you, and, well, I only want to know one thing, and then I promise to drop the subject…." Eric wasn't too sure how to ask the question, but knew it had to be asked. "Vincent….I told you that I forgave you for what happened…with my parents….isn't that enough for you? Why are you holding onto it?"

Vincent looked at Eric with his cold, crimson eyes for a moment, and it looked like he was thinking, searching for an answer.

Finally, he said very quietly, "Because, sometimes, Mr. Constantine….forgiveness is not enough."

"What?" Eric asked, surprised by the reply, "You mean my forgiveness doesn't matter?"

"I did not say that," Vincent replied, "I meant that sometimes, despite feeling sorry for what you have, and though forgiveness has been granted, one cannot avoid the consequences of one's actions…."

Eric looked down at the ground and sighed, then looked up again, "But then, forgiveness truly means nothing, if you still have to suffer afterwards."

"On the contrary," Vincent replied, turning towards the gate, "Forgiveness is an assurance…a way to know that, despite the punishment, the person that you have wronged still accepts you and sees you as a friend again….for what it's worth…."

Eric thought about Vincent's words as he turned to his parents one last time and said his farewells. "I promise to come back again," he vowed. As he followed Vincent out of the cemetery he smiled. "Vincent, thank you so much. Thanks for bringing me here….you don't know what it means to me…"

Vincent didn't answer, but for the absolute smallest second, so small Eric didn't know if it was the moon or not, a small glimmer of a smile passed through the man's eyes. That was all the answer Eric needed, and he smiled in response.

The pair returned to the Strife's home in silence, and Eric thought that it was one of the most satisfying silences he had ever heard in his life.

Eric awoke early the next morning to a sharp pinching sensation on his left wing. He opened his eyes slightly, still rather tired from being up so late, and decided that it was just his imagination. He started to close his eyes again when he felt the sensation again, and this time, it was followed by a voice.

"Get up, you lazy bum!"

Eric recognized the voice at once and he pushed himself up, a huge smile on his lips and a name in his mind.

"Yuffie!" he cried, sitting up and looking at the irritated ninja. She held two feathers in her hand and was glaring hard at him.

"'Bout time you got up, ya dweeb!" she growled, tapping her foot. "I've been waiting for, like, ever to yell at you!"

"Yell at me for what?" Eric asked, suddenly feeling a slightly annoyed tone entering his own voice, "And don't pull out those feathers! That really hurts!"

"Good! Maybe that'll teach you to leave me all alone at Gold Saucer!" she spat.

"Well, it's not like I really had a choice!" Eric shot back. It was good to see the ninja again, because he truly had missed her deep down……..very deep down. "I was kinda kidnapped!" he remined her.

"You still could've tried to get back! You could have called or something!"

Eric listened to Yuffie's statement, and suddenly a thought occurred to him.

"You were worried about me….weren't you?" he asked, a sly smile spread across his face.

"Uh, no," Yuffie replied, stumbling on her answer, "I just, um, didn't want all that materia you have to go to waste."

"You were worried about me!" Eric said again, jumping up out of bed, "Aw, Yuffie, that's so nice! I didn't know you cared that much!" He wrapped the girl up in a hug while she looked on in stunned awe. When she came to her senses, she began to smack him on the back of the head until he let go.

"Let go, creep!" she ordered, giving him one more slap for good measure, "I may have been a little worried, but that's no reason for you to get all mushy on me!"

Eric just smiled and shook his head. It felt so good to be arguing with the ninja again, like things were slowly getting back to normal after the horrible ordeal in Gold Saucer.

"And then," Yuffie continued, "You go and get a make over without telling me! Honestly, Eric, you have no taste. I mean, the whole wing and hair thing was totally unnecessary."

Eric's smile disappeared, and in its place was a small sad look. "It wasn't my choice…" he mumbled.

"Duh!" Yuffie said, hitting him on the back of the head again, "Vincent told me what you said had happened! Hello! You should have put up a better fight then that, you baby!"

"You're absolutely right," Eric said sarcastically, "I mean, I had absolutely no right to be emotionally and mentally distracted by the fact I had been kidnapped and almost killed once that evening, not to mention the possibility of going back to Shinra to sit in a glass tube. And yes, I had no right to be distracted by the evil incarnation of myself either, because that was something I see every day!"

"Glad to see you see things my way," Yuffie replied simply as she turned to the door. As she walked triumphantly through, Eric just blew a few strands of hair that had fallen in his face in a frustrated manner before following behind her.

"So, what are you two arguing about?" They both turned to see Vincent leaning comfortably against the wall at the end of the hallway. "You have not been together for more then a few minutes, and already you are bickering like children…."

"Hey, you're the one that called me, Vinny!" Yuffie shot back, "So it's your own fault if you're unhappy."

"First, Ms. Kisarugi," Vincent started, and Eric knew just by the way he said her name that she was in trouble, "I have asked you many times to either say my name correctly or to not say it at all. Second, I only called you because you had me swear I would tell you when he was safe, because, as you put it, you were, 'like, totally freaking' before I left."

Eric tried to stifle a laugh as he listened to Vincent's monotone mockery of Yuffie, but a glare from the young ninja help him to keep from bursting out. The girl's face was as red as a summon materia, and her eyes were filled with embarrassment and anger.

"So you really were worried about me," Eric said one last time, crossing his arms, the triumph clear in his voice and face now. Yuffie said nothing, but pushed past Eric and stormed down the stairs. Eric turned to Vincent and gave him a what-can-you-do shrug. Vincent just closed his eyes and slowly shook his head.

Breakfast was nice, with a sweet layout of waffles, but the nasty looks from Yuffie dampened Eric's appetite. He liked Yuffie as friend, so it hurt to see her glaring at him like she was.

"So, um…when'd you get here, Yuffie?" Eric asked, hoping to alleviate some of the tension radiating off the girl, which could have easily been cut with a knife. Yuffie didn't say anything, but instead shoved another bite of waffle into her mouth.

"Early this morning," Tifa answered for the girl, "She ran right up to your room the moment Vincent finished explaining the situation to her."

Yuffie still said nothing.

"So, how'd you get here?" Eric asked the girl, not willing to give up. Yuffie just took a drink of milk and kept silent.

"I'll translate this time," Cloud offered, "She arrived on Reeve's personal helicopter. She actually slept the trip over, despite her air sickness."

"Air sickness?" Eric asked, looking from the man to Yuffie and back again.

"Yes," Tifa smiled, "She get's air sick very-"

"Ow!" Cloud cried after a thump was heard under the table, "What was that!" he asked, turning to the side of his chair and rubbing his shin.

"Sorry," Yuffie mumbled, "I thought that was Tifa's leg…"

* * *

Sorry this seemed to be shorter then the rest of the chapters, but it kinda got deep so I figured quality should reign over quantity! Hope ou liked it all the same! Please Read and Review, I'm shooting for at least 50! 


	17. Farewell, My Friend

"W-what? What do you mean, 'he's gone'?"

Eric's face was plastered wide with shock. The news was so surprising that it was almost too much to bear. Still, there was no way to deny it, though it certainly didn't help him any to hear it again.

"It's just like I said," Tifa replied, trying to maintain a calming face. "Vincent left last night. He said that there was something that required his attention and that he needed to leave right away." Eric would have thought the whole thing was some sort of sick joke, but Tifa's face was too serious for it to not be. "He said that he needed to leave right away, and that there would be no time for good-byes."

Eric's face dropped. What did Vincent mean, not enough time for good-byes? Was he really that cold? Eric would have thought that the man would at least tell him when he was leaving so that he could get acquainted with the idea. But no, he decided to leave without any warning. Just what kind of friend was he?

Almost like reading his mind, Tifa smiled gently to the distraught young man, her brown eyes a peaceful support. Eric's red orbs gazed into them and could see that she was already holding that motherly aura, as if it were as natural as breathing for the woman. "That's Vincent Valentine for you…a lone wolf with a mind all his own. Sometimes, I have to wonder if he enjoys keeping us all on edge like he does." She added this with a laugh, and Eric found he couldn't help but laugh as well.

"Still, I wish he would have said something," Eric sighed heavily, running his fingers through his silver hair, the fine strands feeling soft in his hand. "I mean, he seemed fine yesterday, despite Yuffie's grudge." Eric shook his head at the thought. Yuffie had been cranky all of yesterday, not speaking with Eric at all. Instead she contented herself with gazing at her materia collection and skulking off every time the winged young man drew near.

Eric had at least grown used to his changes, seeing them now as more of a pain then anything. Yuffie seemed to like them, or at least liked them enough to make a snide remark whenever Eric was trying to hard to get her to forgive him for his statement that morning. His wings were a bit more under his control now, and he found that moving about was as difficult as it used to be. Sleeping was finally getting easier as well, and Eric managed to enjoy a good night's rest last night. Perhaps too good, for he apparently slept right through Vincent's departure.

"Oh, that reminds me," Tifa said, snapping her fingers. She turned back to the bar behind her and dug through the shelves for a moment. Eric looked around her to see the long bar underside filled with bottles and containers for drinks. Eric was never keen on the idea of alcohol, though he had entertained the idea of trying the specialty drink of Wutai called _sake. _It just sounded so exotic that wanted to give it a shot. _I might ask Yuffie about it later if she's not still angry at me,_ he thought to himself, making a personal memo as Tifa turned back around. In her hands was a small, brown package. It was about the size of a shoe box, and it was tied closed with a long piece of string. Held under the string was an envelope marked _Mr. Constantine_ in Vincent's flowing hand writing.

"Vincent wanted me to give you this," Tifa said, handing it over to the young man. "He said that you may need it, but to be sure you read the letter in the envelope first."

Eric took the box and looked at it. Here it was; the object that Eric could only assume would be the last form of contact between him and the gunman who had been like a teacher to him in the short time the two had known each other. "If you like," Tifa offered, "You can go back upstairs and open it. I've got to open shop soon, so you may want a little privacy."

As he climbed the stairs, Eric's thoughts bounced back and forth. What could possibly be in the package? What could Vincent possibly leave in his possession that would ever fill the void that had suddenly been made? Of course, this question was interrupted by another, less serious one: what in heaven's name could Tifa be doing, opening a bar so early in the day?

Shaking his head to clear away the odd question, Eric pushed open the door to the room he was staying in and looked with a sad glance to the empty bed Vincent had been using. It almost seemed to hold the man's presence, with it's neatly made sheets that Eric was almost certain you could bounce a gil on, and the shadowed corner the bed was situated in. "I suppose that's the perfect example of Vincent," he said dejectedly, plopping down onto his own bed, "Straightforward, no-nonsense and dark…I wish he hadn't left so quickly…I wanted to thank him."

Undoing the string and picking up the envelope, Eric carefully opened it and pulled out a piece of paper from inside. Unfolding it, he found it was a letter, as expected, written, once again, in Vincent's flowing print.

_To Mr. Constantine:_

_If you are reading this, it means that you have already discovered that I have left. I assure you that it had nothing to with you in any way, so do not blame yourself. It is for reasons of great concern that I have left, and so, I bid you farewell. I cannot say whether or not we shall meet again, but something tells me that our paths will cross again, whether it be for a good reason or bad. Regardless, I have left with Tifa something that you will likely find most interesting. I am certain it shall benefit you greatly, but also know that you cannot use it to contact me, for I do not and will not own one myself. Use it to keep in touch with Cloud and Tifa; they will provide you with better aid then I can give you. This is our farewell, Mr. Constantine, whether you like it or not. Still, it is for the best, for you are growing up, and cannot be taken care of forever. You may think to yourself that you need someone there to help you, but from what I have seen, you are quite capable enough to handle any trouble you could get yourself into. You do not need me, or anyone else, to watch you and take care of you. I bid you good fortune in whatever may come your way, Eric, and I can only hope that you make the right choices in your lifetime, and avoid the mistakes of the past. In the end, the best advice that anyone could give would be this, whether you think it is trite or not: follow what your heart tells you. I made the mistake of not listening to that call, and I have regretted that decision ever since._

_Yours truly,_

_Vincent Valentine_

A wet feeling built up in Eric's eyes as he finished the letter. It was one thing that Vincent was gone. That much, Eric could come to grips with, at least knowing that the man was still out there, and that the two could possibly meet up once again. It was something entirely different though, for to Eric, it sounded more like a last will and testament. To Eric, it sounded as though Vincent had no true plans of ever seeing the young man again, as though he were walking towards the gallows or something. This, Eric could not understand. What was he doing that would merit this kind of letter, this kind of response? Why hadn't he said anything to Eric? Did he think that he would be endangering the young man, or did he simply want to get away from him? Was the whole thing some kind of ruse, a way to make Eric think that he would never see Vincent again, and so he shouldn't even bother looking? If that was it, and this was just Vincent's way of disposing of him, then that was something Eric would not stand for.

"He looked rather upset, you know?" Eric heard a voice behind him state quietly. Eric looked to the door to see Cloud standing there, his tall form and blonde hair outlined by the sunlight from the hall window. He looked almost like a contrast to the whole situation, as if he were the polar opposite of Vincent's appearance and demeanor. While Vincent's eyes were filled with the cold, unforgiving gaze of one who has seen to many horrible things to understand, Cloud's eyes, though glowing brilliantly, were more like one who has seen a great deal of hardship, but managed to keep a somewhat cheerful demeanor.

"What do you mean?" Eric asked, looking back down at the box on his lap. He could imagine Vincent having any look on his face other then his typical, apathetic gaze.

"He looked worried about something," Cloud explained, stepping into the room. "Like something was troubling him; and if something is troubling enough that it makes Vincent looked worried, then you know it had to be serious…"

"I just wish he would have said something to me…I wish he would have let me say good-bye…"

"Vincent isn't one for saying good-bye," Cloud answered, walking towards the window, his boots sounding heavy on the wooden floor. "I think they may actually be painful for him. Still, he's had plenty of practice at avoiding them; he had to get out of saying farewell to six people he had been on the road with for a while, after all."

"His hand must have cramped from all the letter-writing," Eric chuckled. Cloud shared in the laugh as he turned back towards the door. As his boots sounded across the floor again, Eric looked up at the blonde man; the man who had led the fight to save the world itself.

"Cloud…" he started, looking towards the floor, his mind running over a question that had bothered him since he had first gotten here. "Did you...were you ever-what I mean to say is…were you ever afraid during the fight to save the Planet? I mean, weren't you ever afraid that you would fail, and everyone would fail with you?"

Cloud looked at Eric for a minute, thinking. Eric returned the gaze with an honestly curious stare. After a few moments, Cloud nodded solemnly, his eyelids closing over his glowing irises. "Honestly speaking," Cloud replied, not opening his eyes, "I was afraid. But, I think that the trick about fear is to know that either way, whatever the outcome, you at least tried. While sometimes that isn't good enough, it can sometimes be the only choice you can make, especially when the odds are stacked against you."

Eric sat alone in the room, listening to Cloud walk back downstairs. "The only choice, huh?" he whispered, opening the box almost without thinking about it. Pulling away the protective paper inside, he saw perhaps the one thing he would have never expected:

A cell phone.

"Come one, Yuffie!" Eric called after the young ninja as she led him towards the city walls of Midgar. She had finally started talking to him, but only long enough to say, "Follow me, I want to show you something!" Eric didn't understand what she was doing, and the curt way that she said made his wings rustle in aggravation. Still, he decided to follow her, figuring that whatever it was must have been good enough to pull her out of her black mood, and so was worth looking into. Still, she was running a bit faster then Eric could keep up, especially with his new body, and so he found himself on the receiving end of several irritated glares from the ninja.

"Hurry up, or we'll miss it!" she yelled back to him. Eric shook his head and sighed. Where she could possibly want to go now, when the sun was almost down, was beyond him, but he knew better then to argue with the temperamental girl.

"Couldn't you at least tell me where we're going?" Eric asked for the third time. Yuffie came to a stop into front of the outer wall of Midgar, and she was looking upward towards the top of a support beam.

"Quite whining, pr I won't let you see it!" Yuffie scolded, turning her brown eyes on the young man. For some reason, they made him feel rather uncomfortable for once, as though whatever she had in mind was very important to her. "Now, can you really fly with those wings?"

"Yeah…" Eric answered, starting to become wary of what was going on. Just what did Yuffie have in mind, anyway?"

"Good! Then carry me to the top of this wall!" she said quickly, looking up again. Eric shook his head, but decided to play along. Her behavior was certainly strange, but he felt that whatever it was would certainly be worth looking into if it got the ninja this serious.

Carrying the young girl was easy, and when the pair finally came to rest on the thick, flat, metal top of the wall, Eric found that he was hardly winded at all. The sunlight cast and orange glow over the whole wall, and the dark metal reflected the rays like a dark mirror. Yuffie ran to the edge of the wall and sat down, her feet dangling over the brink of the outside of the wall.

Eric walked over cautiously to where she sat, and carefully lowered himself down next to her. The height was dizzying, and so he was carefully to keep his legs flat against the warm metal of the wall. "So, what is it that you want to show me?" Eric asked, turning towards the ninja. She smiled slightly, and looked into the distance.

"That," she replied simply, and pointed out to the west. Eric looked out and saw a magnificent sight. The sun was setting gently behind the distant shores of the plains, and lapping water of the sea. The golden and orange light blended into the sea, making it a light violet, while the sky was also taking on this violet array. Stars dotted the sky, and the waves swelling up and down dotted the ocean. The two watched the spectacle in silence as the golden sphere dropped below the horizon, creating only a thin line of orange on the horizon. By this time, the water and sky were the same color, and with the white dots on either surface glittering in the fading light, it looked as if the sky and sea were reflections of one another, with the golden line of sunlight acting like a fading looking-glass for either one. Eric's eyes widened at the unique sight. Never had he seen anything like it, and he was afraid almost to blink, for fear of losing the image altogether. His breath was low and silent, though he had about forgotten to breathe by now.

"It really is something, isn't it?" Yuffie asked quietly, her eyes fixed firmly on the wonder of nature before them. Eric could only nod in response. Yuffie must have found this funny, for she giggled slightly before nudging her companion. "Now, aren't you glad you trusted me?" she asked with a sly smile. Eric waited until the last rays disappeared, and the glorious painting was gone before answering.

"Yes…yes I am," he sighed, breathing finally, "Thank you for bringing me."

"It was no big," Yuffie replied, folding her arms behind her head and laying flat on the quickly cooling metal wall. "So, whatcha gonna do now?" she asked, looking over towards him.

"I don't know," Eric replied. "I'm not sure of anything anymore. I mean, I had come to rely on Vincent, to point me in the right direction, you know?"

"But, you had said that you had been on the road by yourself before, right?" Yuffie questioned, sitting up. Though it was dark, Eric could feel the ninja's brown eyes on him.

"Yeah, I've been on the road before…but I never had any real direction, you know? And Vincent…some much has happened since I met him…and you…and I just don't want to have to say good-bye to him. He was-"

"Kinda like a guide, right?" Yuffie interrupted.

"Yeah…I suppose you could call him that. I just wish he would have let me say bye…but he just walked out without even telling me he was going…"

"He probably didn't want to you to get all depressed because of it!" Yuffie said, rising to her feet. "I mean, can you imagine what he would say? He would act all distant and stuff, and then make everyone depressed. I swear; a day with him makes funerals look like fun!"

The pair shared a laugh over this, as Eric swung his feet from over the side of the wall and stood up. "I guess, that there's not much left for me to do then to go back to what I was doing, you know?" he offered, looking into the sky, its black ceiling quickly becoming covered in white stars.

"And that is?"

"Just going wherever the wind takes me," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. His wings did likewise, and that reminded him of his other purpose. "And try to find a way to get rid of these…" he said, hooking his thumb towards the offending appendages.

"So what? You're going to do that all by yourself?" Yuffie asked. Eric, caught in the throes of his thoughts, missed the hinting sound in her voice completely. So lost was in that he could only mumble out his answer.

"Looks like it…"

If Eric could have seen the color Yuffie's face turned at that point, he would have been hard pressed to either laugh or be afraid. Still, he did feel the knock upside his head after the ninja let out an angry gasp.

"You idiot!" she growled angrily, "How could even suggest such a thing?"

"Well, that's how it started for me! And it's not like there's anyone with me anyway!" This response merited another strike to the side of the head.

"You are such a jerk!" Yuffie grumbled turning away, her tone one of hurt. "I can't believe you wouldn't even think about inviting me to come along with you!"

Eric was stunned. Yuffie actually wanted to come along with him? His initial thought was that there had to be some catch, and his mind instantly went to the materia around his waist. Still, she seemed genuinely upset about it, and so he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt in this case. "I-I didn't think you would have wanted to come along!" he replied, rubbing the back of his head where she had struck him.

"Shows how much you know…" Yuffie muttered in response. "I mean, come on! It's not like I don't already do that! Honestly, you aren't really observant, are you?"

Eric smiled widely as he answered her. "I guess I'm not…so, when do you want to leave?"

"Oh, I'm not going," Yuffie snapped, "At least, not until you ask me properly."

"And how would that be?" Eric asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hhm…you could try begging…"

"What?"

"Never mind," Yuffie said dismissively, "Just ask me really nicely and we'll call it square…that and, you promise me half of all the materia we find…no, all the materia we find. That should cover it!" She slammed her hand against her palm in a very certain manner, like an auctioneer sealing a sale with gavel.

Eric shook his head, but took her hand in his anyway and shook it solidly. "Fine. So, Yuffie…I was wondering if you would like to join me on my journey. Are you interested?"

"You could probably do better then that…" Yuffie responded appraisingly, "But I suppose it will have to do…"

Though he couldn't see it, Eric could feel the smile of the ninja girl beaming at him. Whether this was a smile that foretold mischief or not, Eric couldn't see. Still, it would be nice to have her along. After all, the road could be a lonely place, and he would need a second opinion when it came to tracking down the whereabouts of a certain Mr. Vincent Valentine.

((Well, that's it, folks! The last chapter of Who Am I? has finally been posted! Naturally, I have a sequel in the works, but for now, I jus wanted to get this squared away. It was rather like an itch you have to scratch…but a satisfying itch none the less. It took me a year, but I finally did it! This is the first large-scale Fanfiction that I have ever completed, so I think I shall celebrate by giving you this little secret:

The next installment in this story, will involve events from Advent Children; such as why Vincent suddenly left, and what he was in such a big hurry about.

So, until the next "book" this is VincentValentine13, your humble author, signing off!))


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